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On the Road to Ultimate

Knowledge Extraterrestrial Tao of the


Anunnaki and Ulema
Updated Edition with a New Appendix

Genesis According to The Book of Rama Dosh

The Anunnaki maintain that the universe was created from a


molecule smaller than the tip of a pin, taking less than three seconds.
The language is metaphoric, the science is highly visible much like
our own Genesis whose language covers the Big Bang and the
Theory of Evolution.

Transliteration of a text from The Book of Rama Dosh

1.Inna bida rama dosh kali kilma


wa falki uzzu ina wa anru dani (Dounia)
2.u rama dosh khalki shama u erdi
3.wa erdi naya shak-lu fari mara anu absi
u rama dosh liwa basra erdi
4.u rama dosh shadah ilmu erdi roua min bashri
5.u rama dosh khalka belti isama shavah
6.wa leilu wa fagru subhi yomou badri.
7. u hawwa marki-ya kila la-ma nazri. U rama dosh

kali na inna erdi wadoo kourba shamsi, wa noura


khalku, wa noura barku.
8. u hawwa ma dari akhlu jisma ma khalki sartu
inaya mayi, rama dosh kali da jamu maaa rama
faku erdi wa Zahra erdi u hawwa basri noura
goulba.
9. u hawwa ma dari mauu u rama dosh daaghsbu
maii inna boukari hawwa nasmu-ya, w hawau
nafsuru, u hawwa basri noura goulba

Translation of the text from The Book of Rama Dosh

1. In the beginning, Rama Dosh spoke the


Word and the universe burst into being and
was ready for life.
2. And Rama Dosh created the heaven and the
earth.
3. And the earth was without form, and void,
and darkness was upon the face of the deep.
And only Rama Dosh could see the earth.
4. And Rama Dosh wanted to know what the
earth would look like if it were seen by
humans.
5. And Rama Dosh created a female human
from their own essence, and called her
Chavah. In their own image, in the image of
Rama Dosh, created they Chavah.
6. And the evening and the morning were the
first day.
7. And Chavah was confused, and said, I
cannot see. So Rama Dosh said, I shall

position the earth not far from the sun, and


there will be light: and there was light. And
Chavah saw that it was good.
8. And Chavah was not hungry, since her body
was not yet complete, but she was thirsty. So
Rama Dosh said, Let the water under the
heaven be gathered together unto one place,
and let the dry land appear: and so it was, and
Chavah saw that it was good.
9. And Chavah could not drink, so Rama
Dosh made the water go up in steam so
Chavah could breathe it, and that was the air,
and Chavah saw that it was good.

Transliteration of a text from The Book of Rama Dosh (Contd)

10. wa leilu fajri barku itani yomu.


11. u hawwa isha maraadu rama dosh kali na inna
erdi khalka ishbu wa fakha zahri gensu u hawwa
basri noura gulba.
12. u hawwa na gimsu kilu ala tadri abani erdi wa
harka nazri kulu maaa wa hazru alama erdi. u
hawwa basri noura goulba.
13. u hawwa isha maraadu itani u rama dosh zahru
jsru i-lawida, u rama dosh ilmu i-ya haki. U rama
dosh kali nama gubla inna hima nama eisha lawida
na khalku bashru iina haya-ti.
14. wa leilu farji barku silsu yomu.
15. miba hawwa aspi-nama rama dosh akhza mina
jisma-yaw a tourba min erdi abba maaaa jamuu
inna taboura wa jalsi hawwa taboura nasbu enfsu
illa zahru bashru ma innu jismu misla hawwa wa
rama dosh ilmu na gulba.

Translation of the text (Contd):

10. And the evening and the morning were the


second day.
11. And Chavah was bored. So Rama Dosh
said, Let the earth bring forth grass, the herb
yielding seed, and the fruit tree yielding fruit
after his kind: and so it was, and Chavah saw
that it was good.
12. And Chavah, for her body was not as yet
complete, could fly all over the earth. And
she moved upon the face of the water and the
earth and all the green things. And Chavah
saw that it was good.
13. And Chavah was bored again, and Rama
Dosh were angry with her and made her
sleep. And while she slept, still they realized
that she was bored because she was all alone
upon the earth, and Rama Dosh knew that she
was right. And Rama Dosh said, it is not good
that the woman should be alone. We will
make her a help meet for her.

14. And the evening and the morning were the


third day.
15. And while Chavah slept, Rama Dosh took
a part of her body, and parts from the dirt of
the earth, and parts of the water, and mixed
them into clay. And they put the clay next to
Chavah, and they breathed upon the clay, and
it became a man, but he looked like Chavah,
and Rama Dosh knew that this was not good.

Transliteration of a text from The Book of Rama Dosh (Contd)

16. u rama dosh isbhahu zakar name wa uli marku


inna ajla bashru na zahru hawwa jisma baadi. U
rama i-shem hu Zakar u rama dosh antaka li jalsu
wu Zakar jalasi doughra.
17. u rama dosh antaka hawwa la jalsa wu hawwa
basra basharu wa ulma noura gulba

Translation of the text (Contd):

16. And Rama Dosh pointed Their finger at


the sleeping man, and They touched him, and
the man changed and no longer looked like
Chavah, but like a man. And Rama Dosh
named the man Zakar, and commanded him to
wake up: and he woke up.
17. And Rama Dosh commanded Chavah to
wake up, and she saw the man, and she knew
that it was good.

*** *** ***

Source: The Book of Rama Dosh. Text translated by Maximillien de


Lafayette

** *** ***

On The Road to
Ultimate Knowledge
Extraterrestrial Tao of the Anunnaki and Ulema

Updated Edition with a New Appendix

________________________________

By Ilil Arbel
And

Maximillien de Lafayette

*** *** ***

Updated Edition
Copyright 2010 by Ilil Arbel

All Rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced


by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including
photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage
retrieval system without the permission of the author except in the
case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

__________________________________________

LIBRARY OF CONGRESS
CATALOGING-IN-PUBLICATION DATA

Title. On the Road to Ultimate Knowledge


Author. Ilil Arbel.
ISBN: 1452861560
EAN-13: 9781452861562
Date of Publication: 2010
Printed in the United State of America

__________________________________________

Table of Contents

Introduction: Who is Germain Lumire?.....19

Prologue: Who and What are the Anunnaki-Ulema?....23

Chapter One: Meeting the Master, and Mastering Fears29


Lesson One: Arawadi 61

Chapter Two: Moving to the Middle East, and Encountering Tay Al


Ard65
Lesson Two: Tay Al Ard79

Chapter Three: Baalbeck: A Visit to the Underground City of the


Djinn and Afrit83

Chapter Four: Rabbi Mordechai A Reunion with the Kabbalist,


Alchemist, Ulema Master113

Chapter Five: The Bridge of Enlightenment: Adventures in


Budapest139
Lesson Five: The Triangle of Life: Applying the Value of the Triangle
Shape to Health, Success, and Peace of Mind159

Chapter Six: Initiation by the Pres du Triangle165


Lesson Six: Finding Your Lucky Day and Hour of the Week, Using
the Anunnaki-Ulema Calendar...187

Chapter Seven: Anakh: The Language of the Anunnaki193


Lesson Seven: Moving Objects by Using Mental Powers...217

Chapter Eight: Encounters with the Anunnaki and The Book of


Rama Dosh223
Lesson Eight: The Minzar, Your Mirror to alternate realities249
Chapter Nine: Assuming My Responsibilities...265
Appendix: Book Two...277
Index....299

Books by Ilil Arbel


__________________________________________

The Ecology of Nature Spirits (2010)


The New Chronicles of Barset (2010)
Anunnaki Ultimatum (With Maximillien de
Lafayette, 2008)
Miss Glamora Tudor! (2007)
The Lemon Tree (2005)
The Cinnabar Box (2003)
Maimonides: A Spiritual Biography (2001)
Witchcraft (1997)

*** *** ***

Books by Maximillien de Lafayette, a selected


list

________________________________________

From Zeta Reticuli to Earth: Time, Space and the UFO


Technology. (400 Pages)
The Biggest Controversies, Conspiracies, Theories and
Coverups of our Time: From the Secret Files of Science,
Politics, The Occult and Religion. (400 Pages)
Inside A UFO: Alien Abduction, Hypnosis, Psychiatry,
Quantum Physics and Religions Face to Face. (400 Pages)
UFOs and the Alien Agenda. The Complete Book of UFOs,
Encounters, Abduction And Aliens Bases On Earth. (400
Pages)
Extraterrestrials Agenda: Aliens Origin, Species, Societies,
Intentions and Plan for Humanity. (400 Pages)
The Anunnakis Genetic Creation of the Human Race:
UFOs, Aliens and Gods, Then and Now. (400 Pages)
7-Extraterrestrials-US Government Treaty and Agreements:
Alien Technology, Abduction, and Military Alliance. (400
Pages)
Biographical Encyclopedia of People in Ufology and
Scientific Extraterrestrial Research: People Who Matter. (740
Pages)

Zeta Reticuli and Anunnaki Descendants Among Us: Who


Are They? (400 Pages)
UFO-USO and Extraterrestrials of the Sea: Flying Saucers
and Aliens Civilizations, Life and Bases Underwater (400
Pages)
What Extraterrestrials and Anunnaki Want You To Know:
Their True Identities, Origins, Nibiru, Zeta Reticuli, Plans,
Abductions and Humanitys Future (300 Pages)
UFOs and Extraterrestrials Day By Day From 1900 To The
Present: Flying Saucers and Aliens Civilizations, Life and
Bases Underwater (400 Pages)
1Hybrid Humans and Abductions: Aliens-Government
Experiments (400 Pages)
UFOs, Aliens Impregnated Women, Extraterrestrials And
God: Sex with Reptilians, Alien Motherhood, The Bible,
Abductions and Hybrids (300 Pages)
460,000 Years of UFO-Extraterrestrials Biggest Events and
Secrets from Phoenicia to The White House: From Nibiru,
Zetas, Anunnaki, Sumer To Eisenhower, MJ12, CIA, Military
Abductees, Mind Control (400 Pages)
Extraterrestrials, UFO, NASA-CIA-Aliens Mind Boggling
Theories, Stories And Reports: Anunnaki, Zeta Reticuli,
Area 51, Abductees, Whistleblowers, Conspirators.
The Real & The Fake (400 Pages)
Anunnaki Encyclopedia: History, Nibiru life, world, families,
secret powers, how they created us, UFO, extraterrestrials.
Volume I (400 Pages)
Anunnaki Encyclopedia: History, Nibiru life, world, families,
secret powers, how they created us, UFO, extraterrestrials.

Volume II (400 Pages)


Anunnaki Encyclopedia: History, Nibiru life, world, families,
secret powers, how they created us, UFO, extraterrestrials.
(Condensed Edition, 740 Pages)
2022 Anunnaki Code: End of The World Or Their Return To
Earth? Ulema Book of Parallel Dimensions, Extraterrestrials
and Akashic Records (400 Pages)
Anunnaki Greatest Secrets Revealed By The Phoenicians
And Ulema. Are We Worshiping A Fake God?
Extraterrestrials Who Created Us. The Anunnaki who
became the God of Jews, Christians and Muslims (310 Pages)
2022 The Return of the Anunnaki; The Day the Earth Will
Not Stand Still (350 Pages)

A Note from the Publisher

The events, dates, and locations written about in


this book are entirely factual and tested for
accuracy. However, the names have been changed
to protect the privacy, and sometimes safety, of the
individuals involved. This includes the names of
the narrator, Germain Lumire, and his family.

How to use this book


Most of the chapters are followed by lessons from
the Ulema Masters, and each is suitable, in its
subject matter, to the events that were described in
the chapter. The book, therefore, can be read and
used in two ways. The readers can choose to study
each lesson after reading the chapter, or move to
the next chapter, pursue the entire story, and then
come back to any lesson they may feel is needed in
their lives. The choice depends entirely on

individual preference in reading and studying.


*** *** ***

Introduction
________________________________
Who is Germain Lumire?

Germain Lumire is a man of mystery, and the


general public is not even aware of his existence.
Before the authors received his permission to
write the book, and the information that he
graciously supplied, they knew very little about
him. They knew about his membership in the Pres
du Triangle, a secret organization exercising an
extremely strong influence on world events,
economy, security, and politics. They were also
aware that he is Anunnaki-Ulema, a man who had
been instructed by the greatest masters of this
elusive group of keepers of the Anunnakis secret
traditions, scholars, teachers, and practitioners of
the occult. The relationship between these two

groups was a fascinating surprise in itself.


In this book we read a deceptively simple
account of the life of Germain Lumire, but even
after receiving important information directly from
him, doing additional research, and writing the
book, many tantalizing questions remained.
The authors realized that even the
straightforward chronology may be incomplete.
For example, we first meet Germain Lumire as a
six years old child, right after the end of the
Second World War, greatly traumatized by the
death of his adored father, the terror of the fighting,
and the brutal aftermath of war. Simple enough. But
how, the authors asked themselves, is this possible,
considering the fact that the name of Germain
Lumire has been mentioned after World War One
as well, as a man engaged in doing exactly the
same work, and for the same organization, namely,
the Pres du Triangle? And what about the
account, which makes no sense at all but still
cannot be ignored, of an 18th Century nobleman by
the same name, who practiced alchemy and
transmutation, just like our Germain Lumire? We

assumed, at first, that these two individuals were


his ancestors. But it was not so. Studying his
genealogy, which was readily available for a
member of such a prominent family, proved that
they could not be.
We are introduced to Germains formidable,
magnificent, beautiful mother, a Jewish woman of
German and French origin, the recent widow of a
war hero. Mourning her beloved husband does not
break her strong will. She withstands, and
conquers, all the difficulties made for herself and
her children, and not only continues with the
business her wealthy husband left her, but
increases the wealth into enormous proportions.
She is a loving, kind, indulging mother who adores
her children, and yet she allows her six-years-old
son to go off with a mysterious Chinese Master to
places like Benares in the heat of summer, and
Hong Kong in the time of the typhoons. She lives
by the Code of the Anunnaki-Ulema, doing charity,
protecting the helpless, and practicing strict
vegetarianism out of the principle of never taking a
life. Is she one of the Ulema? And if not, how come

she does not notice that the great Masters that


frequent her home actually teach her son? She does
not tell and Germain respects her silence.
Germain undergoes rigorous AnunnakiUlema training from age six and up, and we follow
his extraordinary road until he is in his mid
twenties, ready to start serving humanity. He is
taught by the dignified, mysterious Master Li, by
the great Cheik Al Huseini, a well known master,
and mostly, by the flamboyant, bon-vivant,
balalaika-playing Kabbalist and Ulema scholar,
Rabbi Mordechai.
Constantly on the move, going from elegant
Paris to the sumptuous Damascus home, from the
streets of Benares to underground cities in
Lebanon, visiting obscure Asian islands and the
Arab suks, Germain mingles with masters,
practitioners of magical forms of self defense, evil
spirits, Djinns, legendary linguists and even the
Anunnaki themselves, never losing his quiet dignity
and his ability to accept and adjust. He is shaken at
times, but always maintains his self control,
proving himself just the right material for his future

duties as an Anunnaki-Ulema who will serve


humanity not by retreating into an obscure temple
or ashram, but by staying and working from within
society and in the world, not out of it. He has his
doubts, proving to be as human as any of us, but
small and great moments of enlightenment make
him finally accept his destiny.
We leave Germain at the moment in which he
is accepting his first assignment, but his story does
not end. The authors hope that at some point in the
future he would allow them to tell the other half of
the story, which is most likely just as full of
adventure and wonder. Time will tell.
*** *** ***

Prologue
________________________________
Who and What are the Anunnaki-Ulema?
The Anunnaki-Ulema is a group of people who
come from diverse backgrounds, and who share a
vast pool of esoteric knowledge, which they claim
to have originally received from the Anunnaki.
Despite its antiquity, this pool of knowledge is
regarded as entirely non-religious and nonspiritual. On the contrary, it is wholly scientific,
though it is based on mind power rather than on
laboratory-based technology. The intellectual
abilities of the Anunnaki-Ulema are enhanced by
the opening of the Conduit.
The Conduit is a cell in the brain,
responsible for storing and activating extrasensory
powers. It had always been commonly activated by
the Anunnaki, and the Ulema had learned from
them how to activate and use it to great advantage.
Traditional science, which is still mapping,

researching, and charting the brain, has not


discovered it as yet. The brain, as is well known
and freely admitted by scientists, is still much of a
mystery to us. The opening of the Conduit allow
the Anunnaki-Ulema to learn more than is usually
seen as humanly possible, and in addition, learn
with superhuman speed.
The Anunnaki-Ulema are not a homogenous
group. They come from various backgrounds, born
to parents of diverse religions, and from every
country in the world. None of that matters to them
their affiliation is never to a religion, nor to a
country. They are citizens of the world and they
serve humanity. The way they serve is not the
same.
Some Anunnaki-Ulema are recluses,
spending their lives in study and research. Others
live in the world and are very much part of it. For
example, the powerful organization, The Pres du
Triangle, which has enormous influence on world
affairs, economics, security, and politics, and is
functioning in total secrecy, is manned entirely by
people who have had the Anunnaki-Ulema training.

The members are hardly recluses. In the Lodges


occupied by the Pres du Triangle, one can meet
heads of state, military leaders, Nobel Prize
winners, and many other dignitaries who are
entirely in the public eye.
All Anunnaki-Ulema share high ethics,
unblemished moral behavior, charity, love of
animals that includes strict vegetarian diet, service
to the poor and helpless, and most interesting
they are all rewarded by a legendary longevity.
Every one of the Masters that Germain Lumire
had been taught by was at least a hundred years
old, and some were close to two hundred. Nor do
they show the signs of age; they are able to choose
the age they appear to be, and often change it,
which may confuse ordinary people with whom
they mingle. In this book, the readers will be
introduced to various great Ulema-Anunnaki
Masters, and it may be beneficial to know
something about some of them before starting to
read the book.
*** *** ***

His Excellency, Master Li


Master Li is Germain Lumires first teacher. He
was born in China, and when we meet him in the
book, he is well over a hundred years old, but
looks about fifty. He is tall, slim, and has a white
beard. Sometimes he wears traditional Chinese
robes, sometimes he prefers a European attire
very likely depending on the type of his current
mission. Master Li works in the diplomatic
service, sometimes as an ambassador, other times
behind the scenes, aiding governments all over the
world in the most delicate affairs. His linguistic
abilities are legendary, and his turn of mind highly
philosophical and extremely calm under all
circumstances. He is also a talented healer and
Germain is a witness to his treatment of a very sick
woman whom he brings back to complete health
instantaneously. Though he possesses considerable
extrasensory abilities and techniques, Master Lis
view of the matter is that if it is possible to do

something naturally, it is best to leave it at that and


not call on any supernatural agency or power. He
does not consort with or employ supernatural
beings unless absolutely necessary.
*** *** ***

Zen Masters, names not given

During his childhood, Germain is taken to Japan to


learn self defense, Zen, and calligraphy from two
masters. Both of them are rather young by
Anunnaki-Ulema standards. The first is Chinese, a
tall, slim, ethereal type of person, in his late
eighties. The other is Japanese, small, strong,
rugged, and very physical, about sixty-five years
old. They are good friends, have worked together
for many years, and they live in close proximity,
each in his own wooden, pagoda-like house, but
sharing a beautiful garden. They are both of the

philosophical Zen turn of mind, and share the sense


of humor that is often part of the disposition of Zen
masters.
*** *** ***

Taj
Taj is not full Anunnaki-Ulema, but has a strong
connection to them. He is a Sudanese, about seven
feet tall, very thin, and has a strange face. His
behavior tends to be rather childish, but he is
nevertheless extremely knowledgeable, and has
somehow acquired a unique capacity to summon
rogue Djinn and Afrit who would not obey their
original masters commands. His extrasensory
talents are not of the highest level, and mostly used
as pranks, including his ability to send energy rays
that can annoy people, or create electricity in
various objects. Unlike the Anunnaki-Ulema, who
have very little interest in wealth, Taj wishes to
become wealthy, and he uses his powers to

achieve his goal.

*** *** ***


Cheik Al Huseini

Living and working in Baalbeck, Lebanon, The


Cheik has access to some of the most esoteric and
important documents in the world, including The
Book of Rama Dosh. He belongs to a different
tradition than Germains other masters. As a
Middle Eastern Ulema, he comfortably used all the
magical techniques that the Western Ulema are
trying to avoid, since they follow a different road,
working like scientists and generally preferring a
simple lifestyle. He even employs non-human
entities, such as Djinn and Afrit, on a regular basis.
Even though his own mode of living is modest, he
does occasionally follow the sumptuous tradition
of King Solomon.

Dr. Farid

Dr. Farid is a high-ranking member of the


organization of the Pres du Triangle, and a former
president of the Syndicate of Foreign
Correspondents. A brilliant, kindly man, he takes a
liking to Germain during his initiation. When Dr.
Farid is transferred to the Lodge in Baalbeck, he
has access to extremely important documents,
including The Book of Rama Dosh, And becomes
instrumental for Germains advanced studies.

*** *** ***


Rabbi Mordechai

Rabbi Mordechai defies characterization. He


dresses like a rabbi, works as an alchemist,
Kabbalist, and linguist in addition to his usual

Ulema duties, and while his turn of mind is highly


scientific, he is not above creating supernatural
beings if he needs them to do some heavy and
quick work for his many charity cases.
He can communicate with animals, create
genetically engineered plants without a laboratory,
and teleport himself in plain daylight. Larger than
life and possessing eyes that are so brilliant that
they make people lower their own eyes when
talking to him, he is certainly not a recluse. On the
contrary, he is a bon-vivant, a great cook, loves to
dance, and plays the balalaika like a professional.
He can also drink untold quantities of vodka
without any ill effects, and despite strict
vegetarianism, believes that caviar is another
matter and altogether a gray area (they are eggs!
he claims). Always cheerful, there is no adversity
that Rabbi Mordechai cannot conquer. During his
long life (he was born in Russia, and it is well
documented that he was older than the last Czar) he
had developed a huge network of people that help
him with his work, and those who simply adore
him for his great heart and loving nature.

*** *** ***

Chapter One
Meeting the Master, and Mastering
Fears

War trauma and terror


Meeting Master Li
Miraculous cure of Sister Marie Ange
Gabrielle
Journey to Benares
How a bird came to life and a snake was
respectful
The gruesome Indian Rope Trick
Journey to Hong Kong and to a magical
island
The true meaning of gifts and favors
Overcoming fears
Lesson One: The Arawadi Technique

Mama,

what are they doing to this girl? I


screamed, trying to hide my face in her sleeve so
as not to witness the horrible spectacle. Why isnt
anyone helping? Help her, Mama!
A group of six or seven men, wearing black clothes
and berets and carrying large, very visible guns,
were dragging a young girl, who was struggling
and crying for help, to a makeshift station made of
a rickety table and chair. They brutally forced the
girl to her knees, and someone, holding a pair of
large scissors, started cutting off her hair, pulling it
mercilessly in the process. People went on
walking, ignoring the horror, while some other
stopped to watch, enjoying the cruel spectacle. My
mother sighed deeply. Ill explain later, she said,
and gently giving my trembling hand to my nurse,
stepped forward toward the gang. Stop this
immediately! she commanded. Now! Release
this girl at once!
The leader of the gang turned, tremendous
amazement registering on his face. He obviously

did not expect anyone to approach him, let alone a


woman. And who, in the name of the Devil, are
you to stop us? He said. You know perfectly
well that we are members of the Resistance, and
she is a filthy Collaborator, a friend of the
Germans! We will catch all these sluts and shave
their heads! This is our revenge and dont you
interfere!
A Collaborator, my mother said contemptuously.
Half the country were Collaborators. The
government itself collaborated. Are you pursuing
the powerful people who sold us to the Germans?
No, you torment helpless little girls, who did
nothing more than trying to survive. Brutes!
Profound silence spread over the scene. The leader
hesitated, not knowing exactly how to react. But he
realized that if he gave way, his supremacy over
his gang would end there and then. Mastering his
courage, he stepped toward my mother and
grabbed her hair, which, as usual, was put up in a
neat twist. It came off and her glorious golden
curls fell down to her waist. Perhaps you have
done the same thing, Madame? he sneered.

Maybe we should give you the same treatment and


cut off your pretty hair? Did you play nicely with
the Germans? I could not see Mamas face, since
her back was turned toward me, but I could
imagine how angry she looked; she could be quite
intimidating. As I was struggling to free my hand
from my nurse, who was holding it tightly, and run
to Mama, I saw her, in what seemed like slow
motion, straightening herself to her commanding
height, raising her hand, and slapping the leaders
face with all her might. He recoiled, shocked.
Do you know who I am? she said in a voice that
could only be described as low and menacing. I
am the widow of Charles Lumire.
My God, said the leader, his face turning pale.
My God. Madame Lumire, forgive me. Please. I
did not know. He turned around and said to the
men who were holding the girl, her hair already
partially cut. Let her go. This is Madame
Lumire. They instantly obeyed and the girl fell
on the pavement.
Come along, my little one, Mama said to the girl
and held out her hand, I will help you. The gang

stood around them, silent, as the girl pulled herself


up, helped by Mama.
Dont ever show your faces in this street, said
Mama to the leader. You are a bad influence on
my son, who will not forget this day when he
grows up. Go now.
Of course I did not know it at the time, but few
peoples names were more respected by the
Resistance than that of my father; he had done more
for the Resistance than I care to explain now, and
for France in general. The gang turned and left, and
we went home, the girl, weak with terror and
fatigue, supported by my nurse.
Were you really a Collaborator, my child? asked
Mama, stroking the poor girls tear-stained face.
Yes, Madame, said the girl candidly. But you
see, father was killed in the war, Mama was sick,
and my little brother was hungry I am ashamed
of myself for what I did, but yes, I had to feed him
or he would have died and then Mama would
have died of a broken heart and it was just a few
times, really, Madame
Dont think about it, my dear, said Mama. We

all have to survive, one way or another. I will help


you and your family leave Paris. I will find you a
place and some work in the country, where I have
property and connections, and where you can have
a peaceful life, and I promise to keep an eye on
you in the future. But first of all, we must find you
a wig so no one can tell what these thugs did to
you.
Our house, an elegant and luxurious three-storied
mansion that fortunately suffered little damage
during the war, was only a minute away, and with
considerable relief I entered and ran up the marble
staircase to my room.
All during the war my room was the only place
where I felt entirely safe, for some reason. Perhaps
the pleasant presence of the familiar toys, perhaps
the bed, where I could bury my head in the
pillows, exercised calming influence, I really dont
know. My mother, who was invariably kind and
protective, tried to have me sleep with her when I
was wrecked by nightmares, but while I wanted
her near me, I still needed the comforting
surrounding of my room, like a cocoon, around me.

Even the portraits of our ancestors that were


hanging in various rooms and on the staircase
frightened me when night fell, though during the
day they did not worry me. Sylvie, my little sister,
had no such terrors. A very placid child, she was
not traumatized at all, thank goodness, and her cute
little face was always smiling.
On that afternoon I threw myself on the bed
and started crying uncontrollably. A year before
these events my father was killed in the war. Now,
even though the war just ended, I was completely
traumatized by the experience and by his death,
since I was very close to him and loved him
intensely. Only six years old, I could not remember
a time of peace. I was terrified by the Germans
who had occupied Paris, and I did not believe that
the bombs will not come back. I had horrible
nightmares, every single night, and woke up
screaming and shaking. And now, seeing our own
people abuse a helpless girl was just more than I
could bear.
After a few minutes, Mama came in and took me in
her arms. I was shaking with sobbing. I want to go

away too, Mama. If you can send this girl away to


the country, why cant we all go? It is hateful here.
There are bombs, and fires, and people attack girls
in the street and I am so scared. And the man
attacked you, too, he pulled your hair, Mama, I saw
it. They may attack my aunt, or Sylvie, too. Why
dont we leave here?
But I won the struggle, Germain. This thug was
afraid of me, and left me alone and slunk away, the
coward. Anyway, I cant leave Paris. I have to
attend to the business that Papa left to us. So many
people depend on it, my dear, and Papa would not
have wanted me to desert them. Some day, when
all is back to normal, we may travel. But in the
meantime, I may find a way to give you a nice long
vacation away from Paris, if you like.
But will you and Sylvie be safe without me taking
care of you, Mama? I asked, in all seriousness
believing that in some way I protected my mother
and my little sister. Mama did not laugh, but
answered quite seriously and reassuringly.
Oh, yes, my dear, well be quite safe. Your aunt,
and the servants, and our friends, and all the

employees in the business, will all be here for me.


And as you realize, I do know some very important
people who wont let me get in any trouble, ever.
You should not worry. You need to be away from
Paris for a little while, just to relax and stop your
bad dreams, you see? We will find a way, and it
will be fun for you. And Paris is liberated,
Germain. There will be no more bombs, no
Germans, it will be peaceful from now on.
I felt better. I still did not want to go out of the
house, not that day, anyway, and I was not entirely
certain that Mama was right about the war really
ending. Even though she was usually right, she still
might be mistaken, the Germans might have tricked
her to believe that Nevertheless, I felt I could
leave my room. I stepped over with Mama to
Sylvies room and we played with the train set and
I forgot the horrors for a little while.
***
A few days later I came down the staircase, and
was about to enter the formal living room when I

was stopped by a voice I did not recognize. While


I knew perfectly well that listening at doors was
not a polite thing to do, I decided that hearing if
what was going on in the living room was safe for
me to encounter was more important than good
manners.
Well, Madame Lumire, I will be leaving
tomorrow. I have met all the people I needed to
meet. But I am coming back in three months, for the
second set of meetings. The voice spoke perfect
French, but with a foreign accent.
Did you accomplish everything you wanted to do,
Your Excellency?
I am not sure. Its not easy to gauge. Since
Indochina is still a French territory, we cannot
measure my situation by political standards. There
was a need for new connections between our
leaders, and at this time the authorities back home
thought that a scholar would be more appropriate
than a government official for such discussions.
But did I succeed in all I wanted to accomplish?
Who is to know? I have done my best.
My husband would have liked this approach,

said Mama. He always believed that the scholars


and thinkers could help the world much better than
the political figures, who are usually only out for
personal power.
Yes indeed, Madame, your husband and I always
felt the same about such matters I will never
stop missing him. Such a good friend he was to
me.
My son is devastated by his death, Your
Excellency. Traumatized, to be honest, said
Mama. Your suggestion of taking him with you is
more timely than you could possibly imagine.
I believe that being away from here for three
months, in different countries, different cultures,
will be highly therapeutic, said the voice.
Where do you plan to go?
I expected to go to Hong Kong and Indochina, but
now it seems I will have to spend some time in
Benares, where I currently live with my family.
That is why it would be so nice for the child. We
have a big house with a huge garden, a large
extended family, and little boys his own age
coming to my school. The cheerful atmosphere will

give him great relief and amusement. And I will be


back with him in early December.
Sounds just right, said Mama. As I am sure you
know, the school year in Paris has been postponed
to January next year, since they have to allow
evacuees to come back. Also, so many people are
out of the country altogether. I can register him in
December, and it is perfect timing for his little
vacation. But what is the weather like in Benares?
I am ashamed to admit, but I do not remember
when the monsoons strike the area.
Its quite safe. The monsoons strike from June to
August, and they are over now. I would not expose
a Parisian boy to the illnesses that might be
triggered by the extreme humidity of the monsoon
season. The weather is quite comfortable now,
sunny and pleasant.
Well, I can see no objection, and I am very
grateful for the offer, said Mama.
Can I see little Charles? said the voice. It was
customary in those days to call a child by the name
of his father, adding the word little before it.
Of course, said Mama. Lets see how he feels

about the idea. I will call him. Realizing that in a


minute Mama will be out and catch me
eavesdropping, I quickly dashed upstairs and sat
on the bed in my room, looking as innocent as I
could, holding a picture book. Presently Mama
came in and told me that there is a gentleman, a
friend of Papa, who wanted to meet me.
In the living room stood a person that seemed to
me like a materialization of a cartoon. He was tall
and extremely skinny, had a long, white, thin beard,
and light, golden skin. He wore foreign clothes that
I have never seen before. But the strangest thing
was the light around his head. As he stood against
the burgundy curtains that covered the window, the
light was shining like a halo. I did not understand
it, and Mama made no comment about it so I was
not even sure if she noticed it. Later, the Master
explained to me that he put it on for me on that
occasion because it had the capacity of calming me
down. I dont remember seeing it around his head
again. His face had a look of benevolence, deep
kindness, that cannot be described. In Western
culture we would refer to it, perhaps, as a biblical,

or saintly expression, but the Master would have


never accepted such a term. He was, anyhow,
extremely appealing to everyone, so much so that I
noticed later, when the servants brought tea, that
they hung about the room, not wishing to leave.
They seemed to be mesmerized by him. At the
time, the Master claimed to be fifty-six years old,
but he seemed much older in one way, and ageless
in another.
Hello, Germain, said the apparition.
Hello, Monsieur, I said politely.
You should say Your Excellency, Germain, said
Mama.
I considered that. No, he did not look like that; I
saw many ambassadors in our house. He looked
more like a teacher. I said that and the Master
laughed. Indeed, perhaps one day I will be your
teacher, he said. Why not call me Master, like
my other students? Yes, I thought. That fitted him
very well. I like that, I said. Master.
I was a friend of your father, said the Master.
And now I am a friend of your mother, and I hope
your friend too. I come from Indochina.

I see, I said noncommittally. I had no idea where


Indochina was.
How would you like to come with me on a long
vacation? he asked. I can show you interesting
foreign countries, and you will meet a lot of nice
people and see strange places.
I have already made up my mind that I would go. I
dearly wanted to get away from Paris, and it was
clear to me that Mama thought it was a good idea.
And somehow, the Master had a strong appeal to
me. But it was important to pretend that I knew
nothing about the plan. I suspect the Master knew
all along that I was eavesdropping before, but he
did not say a word about it, then or afterwards.
How long will the vacation be? I asked.
Until you go back to school, said the Master.
Okay, I said. I will go.
Say thank you, said Mama, always anxious about
my proper upbringing. The Master laughed again,
in a most good-natured way.
Thank you, I said. When are we leaving?
How about tomorrow? said the Master.
Good, I said.

We dont need too many things, said the Master


to Mama. In Benares, he will wear Indian
clothing, which are cool and comfortable for the
climate. With so many children around, we are
always shopping for clothes and other things for
them, and we can outfit him very nicely.
The plan seemed very reasonable to me, and I
settled to have some tea. After tea, when the
Master prepared to leave, Mama asked him for a
favour.
I have a woman staying with me, a nun, she said.
She suffered greatly, and she is very sick. Since
this is your area of expertise, Your Excellency,
would you be so kind as to visit her for a few
minutes?
The nun, a dear friend of Mama, was very sick
indeed. She was bedridden and had lost the use of
her legs. Mama was very worried about her, and
the doctors could do nothing. The Master was quite
ready to visit the sick woman. I felt I was part of
the mission, now, since I was going with him
tomorrow, so I followed them to the nuns room,
which was located on the third floor, with the other

guest bedrooms that were always occupied by


some people who needed help.
My mother knocked on the door, and the servant
who was keeping an eye on the invalid opened the
door. The nun looked at the Master, horrified by
his bizarre appearance. In the name of God, she
said in a hoarse voice, what is it? Is this the
Devil? Naturally, she did not know he spoke
perfect French. The Master laughed. No, Sister. I
am not the Devil. My mother smiled, and
introduced them. Sister, this is His Excellency
Sung Li, a dear friend of Charles and me. Your
Excellency, this is Sister Marie Ange Gabrielle
The nun did not respond. Generally, she was a
polite, pleasant woman, and would have never
insulted anyone deliberately, but her illness got the
better of her and she was not quite herself. The
Master apparently understood the situation
perfectly. He looked at her intently, then put his
hand on the board at the end of the bed and shook it
gently. The nun stared. He went on shaking it for a
couple of minutes, and then said firmly, Sister,
stand up.

He is crazy, said the nun to no one in particular.


I am not crazy. Sister Marie Ange Gabrielle,
stand up! commanded the Master.
To my utter amazement, Sister Marie Ange obeyed.
She stood up, and after swaying on her feet for a
second, started walking about the room, the first
time in months. Then she sat on the bed and stared
again at the Master. What happened? she said
weakly. I walked, didnt I? But I cant walk. I am
sick.
There is really no need for you to be sick, Sister,
said the Master casually. So you cured yourself.
You will have no trouble from now on.
Indeed, Sister Marie Ange got well, went back to
the convent, and lived a long and healthy life. But
she never quite understood what happened. Well,
most people do not know how to deal with
miracles, sometimes not even nuns.

The next Day the Master came. I kissed Mama and


Sylvie and went with him to the street, where his
chauffeur waited in a large, black Citroen. The

night before I lay awake, afraid that I will have a


fit of crying during the parting from my family, but
somehow I did not feel stressed or upset when the
time came. I wonder if the Master did something to
my mind, calming it down but I never asked and I
will never know.
I remember we went first to Italy, and then to
Morocco, and from there boarded a ship to India. I
have no clear memory of any country before
arriving in Benares. I imagine the trip was
uneventful, and I probably stuck pretty close to the
Master, because I was still afraid of just about
anything around me. Having a strong memory for
conversation, though, which later in life was
extremely helpful to me, I remember a little of
what the Master told me about Benares. I was
naturally quite curious about it.
It is a city of many names, said the Master. I
particularly like the name Kashi, which means
City of Light. The name Benares is really rather
new, given to the city by the British. Its not my city
of birth, of course, but I am fond of it.
Is it beautiful, like Paris? I asked.

Very different from Paris, and much older, said


the Master. It is two thousand and five hundred
years old. Is it beautiful? Well, some parts are,
some are not. Indeed, some segments of the city are
very poor, very miserable. But other parts are
magnificent, and the whole city is interesting. We
will have so much to show you, Germain.
I could not wait to see it but at first sight I did not
like it, because as we approached the city by train,
and had to walk a certain distance to the house, we
passed through incredibly poor areas. The streets
were literally lined with people, lying on the
ground, wrapped in their sand-colored clothes, the
same color as the ground. I could not understand
why people had to be so poor as to sleep in the
street. You could not even tell if the people were
dead or alive, and the scene frightened me very
much. But soon I realized that no one paid
particular attention to the situation. Women
wearing colorful silk saris, that were as striking as
the feathers of tropical birds, wove their way
among the bodies on the ground. Westerners,
mostly British, did the same, looking very military

and imposing. Suddenly I saw a horrible thing. A


large snake crawled among the people on the
ground, slithering here and there. No one moved,
allowing the snake to pass. I froze with terror; I
never saw a snake, except in the zoo. The Master
put his hand on my shoulder. The snake will not
hurt you, Germain, he said. He raised his hand,
and twisted it around, making a strange sound. This
was bizarre. How could one hand make a sound?
Apparently, the snake heard it. It rose vertically to
the air, went down again, turned, and left the scene.
Many of the poor children came to thank the
Master. I realized he was well known around this
area.
You see, Germain, the snake simply went about
his own business. It is not right to assume that he
meant to harm anyone and be afraid of him, he had
no such intention, the Master said cheerfully. All
his lessons were like that. He never said, Watch, I
am going to do something wonderful now, pay
attention. No, he did not want us to pay attention
to himself, only to what we could see and learn.
And indeed his students, knowing that, never

interrupted him but always paid attention, since


just being around him was a constant learning
experience and a very pleasant one at that.
We finally reached his house, a very large place
with a garden full of trees and flowers, incredibly
lush growth which was completely different from
the orderly gardens of Paris. The Master introduce
me to the family and took me to my room, an
extremely pleasant one, overlooking the garden. I
changed into native clothes made of comfortable
cotton, and joined the family to an excellent dinner.
For a few weeks, the Master had to go to his
schools in Malaysia and Okinawa, and I stayed
with his wife, a wonderful, kind lady whom I will
always love. The house contained a large extended
family, including his wifes sister, her own son and
his wife, and their five children, two of which
were very close to my age and became very
friendly toward me right away. In addition, the
school, next door, housed more children. Every so
often a group of children from other locations,
even other countries, came to stay for a while. The
current group was from Tibet, all wearing saffron

robes and chattering like birds.


So the nephews children took me all over
Benares. At first I was terribly afraid, and didnt
really want to go anywhere, but I was not going to
let them know, I was too proud, so I forced myself
to go and let them show me everything. The more I
saw, the more interesting the place became to me.
One of the first things they showed me were the
ghats. Benares is situated on the River Ganges, and
everywhere there were series of paved steps that
lead into the water. Most of them had tiny temples
built into their sides, and people who came to
bathe in the Ganges would descend the ghats and
then visit the temple while still standing in the
water. They often prepared flowers, and lit oil
lamps, to float on the river, as part of a ritual for
washing away all sins and troubles from ones life.
The children told me that the ghats and their
temples were extremely ancient and built by
royalty.
One morning, an older cousin took us for an
adventure. We took a boat, and travelled down the
Ganges at the very early dawn. We covered quite a

distance, which allowed us to see some of the


larger temples. One of them, a temple dedicated to
the Lord Shiva, was so covered with gold plating
that its towers simply glowed in the morning sun. I
was surprised as to how many people were
already up and about, dozens of bathers waving at
us in the most good natured way as we passed
along, always hearing the lovely sound of the
temple bells.
I was also thrilled to see the Benares Hindu
University, not because I had any scholarly
aspirations, at my tender age, but because my
friends told me that the Master taught there. It was
a huge, impressive university, established in 1916,
possibly the largest in Asia at the time. I hoped the
Master would take me for a tour when he came
back, which he did.
No matter what day of the week, one festival or
another was celebrated in Benares. I did not pay
much attention to the subject of the festivals, most
of which were complicated and beyond my
understanding, but I enjoyed the spectacles and
was seriously interested in the sweets that were

sold there. We never failed to get some


interesting tastes, very different from the sweets of
Paris. My favorites were milk-based sweets,
flavoured with rose water and saffron. I was also
quite partial to dried fruit layered with cream and
wrapped in betel leaves.
Eventually, after a few weeks, the Master came
back. We were very happy to see him, of course. I
was particularly interested in his return, not just
because I liked him, but because I saw a mystery
or two at the house that I wanted to question him
about. First, I discovered a room which had a
closed door. I knew I should not enter, but I did
anyway, and to my surprise I saw a very untidy
mess of papers, all sizes and colors. I was not
comfortable asking anyone else, so when the
Master came back, I confessed my spying and
asked him what the papers were for. The Master
smiled, and said, Go choose whatever paper you
like, any color, any size. Bring two or three
pieces.
I picked a few nice pieces and returned. The
Master asked, what would you like to see? A

bird, maybe? Shall we have a bird visit us?


But birds dont go in houses, I said. Only if they
are lost. I dont want any bird to be frightened and
lost.
Not everything is as it seems, said the Master.
Some birds are not lost, nor are they afraid. They
just visit. He quickly made a few folds in one of
the papers, a white one, and to my amazement, a
neat sculpture of a pigeon was sitting in his hands.
I laughed, delighted with the trick.
And I think a bird likes flowers, doesnt it?
asked the Master.
Yes, they do, I said with conviction.
The Master made a few folds in another piece of
paper, a red one. A rose magically appeared in his
hand. I was thrilled, and touched the paper
carefully. It was all so lifelike. As I touched the
bird, it flew out of the Masters hand. I recoiled,
slightly shocked.
Nothing to be afraid of, said the Master. Come
along. He took me to the garden, and the bird flew
after us in a rather business-like manner, as if
knowing exactly what it meant to do. In plain day

light, the Master gently put the rose on a rose bush.


The paper rose immediately turned into a real
flower, and the paper bird, now a real, living
pigeon, settled on the bush and made distinctive
pigeon sounds.
These two are not lost at all, said the Master. I
think they are very happy. I had to agree.
Somehow, the incident, despite its magical and
unusual tone, did not frighten me at all. I loved it.
And then came the miracle of the tree. In another
room in this large house, around the exit to the
garden, and with its door wide open, resided many
empty flower pots, with just dirt in them but no
plants. Passing by them one day, I asked the master,
Why do you keep all these empty pots?
They are made for giant trees that like to live
inside the house, said the Master.
But how can you fit a giant tree inside? They are
bigger than the ceiling, I said skeptically.
Well, I really was remiss in not having a
few in the house already, said the Master. They
are very important and bring happiness and luck.
Please choose one pot, and let me show you how

the biggest tree in the world will fit into it.


But it cant come into the house by itself, I
said.
No, they dont walk, but we can go out and
look for it, said the Master. We went out and
stood before a giant pepper tree, covered by
feathery leaves and red tiny dots of the pepper
spice. A living, thriving, beautiful tree that must
have been in the garden for many years.
This tree? I asked. But it is not cut, it is
growing! Dont cut it, it may be hurt!
Of course I wont hurt the tree. But we
needed to choose a special kind of tree, right? That
is why we are looking at it. Now come back inside
and see what happened, said the Master. We
returned into the house, and in the formerly empty
pot stood a tiny tree, the exact replica of the giant
tree outside, complete with the small red dots of
the pepper spice. I stared, speechless. How did it
go into the pot?
This tree is older than the one outside,
said the Master. As a matter of fact, the giant tree
is the baby of this little one, and grew from one of

its seeds. Where I am going to take you some day,


when we start our serious studies, we dont
measure people by their size. We measure them by
this, he said, tapping the top of his nose to the top
of his forehead, and by that, tapping a small area
around his heart. Size means nothing.

Gradually, slowly, something was happening


to me. I calmed down. Under the peaceful
influence of the teacher, the magical occurrences,
the friendships I developed, and the newness of the
culture, I began to feel more and more confident.
Of course, I was not aware of it, until an
interesting incident brought it to my six-year-old
attention.
That morning we encountered, at one of the
festivals, an event that was new even to the
nephews. A man, assisted by a child of about my
age, were arranging some baskets on the ground,
and a large crowd, visibly excited, was waiting for
the spectacle to begin. Being small and agile, we
slithered among the people and found a good spot.

The man sat on the ground, and removed a cloth


from one of his baskets. He took a musical
instrument, a sort of flute, and began to play. To my
utter amazement, a thick rope rose vertically from
the basket and started inching its way up. This
went on for some time, until the rope reached an
enormous height. It just stood there, entirely rigid,
defying the laws of gravity. The man stopped his
playing, and the child went to the rope and started
climbing it. Up and up he went, finally
disappearing from view. The audience whispered
to each other, mesmerized. The man started calling
the child to come down. I could understand a little
bit of the language by then, even though the
nephews spoke English to me, and that was a
simple enough conversation and I understood it
perfectly. From the far height of the rope, we heard
the child refusing to come down. From one of the
baskets, the man took out a huge butcher knife, put
it between its teeth, and started climbing the rope.
Soon he also disappeared from sight. The
audience, apparently knowing what to expect,
seemed agitated to a great degree. Suddenly, a

scream was heard, and horrible, bloody body parts


fell to the ground. Many of the witness screamed,
and one woman fainted, but no one paid any
attention to her, their eyes glued to the rope. Soon
the man came down, picked up the revolting body
parts, and threw them into another basket. He
wiped his knife on a piece of cloth, and covered
the basket that contained the body parts with it. The
audience was so silent you could hear a pin drop.
Then the man picked up the blood-stained cloth
and flourished it in the air. The boy, safe and
sound, jumped out of the basket, smiling broadly.
He then proceeded to go around the audience with
a bowl, receiving coins.
Its fake, I said to the nephews, quite
decidedly.
How do you know? said one of them. It
seemed real enough to me. Horrible, really.
I just feel it, I said. I was not scared. Its
terribly disgusting, but its a fake. I know it in
my head.
I suddenly felt a hand on my shoulder. I
turned, and saw the Master. He was smiling

broadly at me. I could see he was extremely


pleased, but I did not know why.
Did you see it, Master? I asked. Its fake,
isnt it?
Yes, it is, Germain. If you are interested, I
will explain to you later how he did it. A mere
slight of hand. But what I find interesting, Germain,
is that you were not scared by the sight of it, which
was really rather terrible. Have you felt any fear?
None at all, Master.
When was the last time you felt afraid,
Germain?
I am not sure, Master. Its been awhile, I
think
Do you remember how scared you were when you
came here?
Yes, I said, rather intrigued. Everything, even
that silly snake, scared me. I dont know why but
I am not scared anymore.
And when we go back to Paris, will you be afraid
of the bombs, and of the nasty people?
I dont think so, I said, considering. Mama said
the war is over, and I am not sure I remember the

bombs too well now. But even if it were not over


and there were bombs I just dont feel this sort
of pain, this thing in me, I cant describe it how
did you do it, Master? How did you make me not
scared?
I did not do anything, Germain. Not a thing. I just
showed you a few beautiful little things about life,
like the bird, and the tree. You have conquered
your own fears, and I am proud of you. But not
everyone can do it on his or her own. So my own
teachers developed a system of how to cure
ourselves of fear.
Can I learn it? Maybe someday I will be scared
again?
Certainly you can learn it, though you will never
need it for yourself again. In addition, you will
probably find that much of it you have done to
conquer your own fears. However, some day you
will teach others how to use it. Actually, its fun.
I knew it would be, because everything the Master
taught was great fun. And even though he was right,
and that time in Benares cured me from trauma and
fear forever, I am happy I can teach others how to

acquire the skill. The interested reader can find it


in Lesson One, and I hope it brings relief to anyone
who needs it.
Soon after these events we had to get ready to
return to Paris. I was torn between the joy of
reuniting with my family, and the sorrow of leaving
my new friends and wonderful vacation. But we all
knew that we will soon meet again.
***
For a while, the Master and I corresponded. He
wrote to me about once a month, on beautiful rice
paper, soft and elegant. Each page had an ornate
frame around it, delicately depicted in lovely
colors, and sometimes there was a picture faintly
embedded in the paper itself, perhaps of cherry
blossoms, or bamboo, or birds. Sometimes, when
he wanted to emphasize a concept, he drew a
picture. I liked these letters so much I asked my
mother to have them framed for me, and I hung
them on the wall. I did my very best to write back
as neatly and as carefully as I could, because I

wanted the Master to see how much I was


improving in school. Emulating his style, I also
acquired the habit of adding little drawings to
letters which I have continued even when I grew
up.
And then, to my great joy, the Master came back to
Paris. He had more treaties to take care of, but that
did not interest me greatly. What I was really
happy about was that he asked Mama if I could go
with him on another vacation, this time in Hong
Kong. It was August, so we had about a month for
our trip, and I could come back in September for
the beginning of the school year.
Is it safe, Your Excellency? asked Mama
anxiously. I know Hong Kong is now in the hands
of the British again, but still
It will be entirely safe, Madame Lumire, said
the Master. Life returned to normal, the people
have recovered so quickly from the War. Hong
Kong is very pleasant these days.
I was thinking more of the tropical storms, said
Mama.
I dont expect a very dangerous season, said the

Master. And anyway, we will always be in


protected areas.
Very well, said Mama, but, Your Excellency, it
may frighten Germain... would you be very much
afraid of a tropical storm, Germain?
I considered. I dont think so, I said. I was not
afraid all this year, not of anything.
It can be a good test, said the Master, looking at
Mama with his pleasant smile.
Yes, said Mama. You are right, Your
Excellency. I will let him try his wings again.
Naturally, we stopped first in Benares for a happy
reunion with the Masters family. We could only
stay one or two days before taking our plane
directly to Hong Kong, but it was a joy to see
everyone.
We went to the Kowloon Peninsula, the most urban
part of Hong Kong, and I enjoyed walking in the
noisy streets and seeing the perfect blend of East
and West. The streets were very busy, with
bicycles, cars, rickshaws, and pedestrians all
shoving and honking and screaming and bowing to

each other as the need arose. Everywhere were big


buildings, like in Paris, but with some Asian flair
that cannot be defined, standing next to Buddhist
temples. You heard people talking in many
languages, since Hong Kong was an important port,
but the official languages, as I found out from the
Master, were Cantonese and English, so the myriad
of signs in the streets were written in these
languages. Enticing scents of food, spices,
perfume, flowers, and incense floated everywhere.
On some street corners you saw Chinese shops
where you could visit a doctor who also sold
traditional herbal medicines. You could stop for a
bowl of shark fin soup, real or fake as the case
may be, and shops that sold pretty little statuettes
from all over Asia. But you also came across a
very English-style pub here and there, a church, or
a movie theater showing the latest from
Hollywood. It was oppressively hot and humid, but
I did not care about such things, and the Master,
able to handle any climatic condition, did not seem
to mind either.
The Master had some business to conduct in Hong

Kong, but after concluding them, he told me we


were about to go to a place which was unique, and
where no Western person had ever gone. We
boarded a bark, a very simple affair that was
clearly not designed for tourists, and in the
afternoon of that day sailed off. After an uneventful
trip, something appeared in the distance. Is this
the land we are going to? I asked.
Yes, we are almost there, said the Master.
It is a very small island, linked to a chain of other
small islands by tiny harbors. If you look very
carefully now into the distance, you will see an
extremely unusual phenomenon. Concentrate on
where these jagged, vertical cliffs should ease into
the sea.
I looked, to my amazement, I saw the earth
between the cliffs and the sea moving, shaking, as
if in an earthquake. I did not notice any port, just
this quivering land. I did not know what to make of
it, and continued staring at it with disbelief, until
we got much closer and I realized that what I
thought was land really was a fleet of small boats,
each attached to the other, all the way to the tiny

beach which stood at a slight incline toward the


cliffs, completing the mirage-like phenomenon. It
seemed like a platform made of boats. All were
gently rocking on the water, their movement
creating the illusion of an undulating land.
So how do we get to the shore? I asked,
fascinated by this magical place. There is no port
and the small boats are blocking the way to the
beach!
They are not blocking it, said the Master.
They are our bridge. We are going to walk on
them, jumping from one boat to the other. Come, I
will pick you up and we will fly!
Indeed, if felt like flying. With one of the
sailors bringing our small luggage after us, the
Master leapt from boat to boat like a huge bird, his
robes and his beard streaming in the wind, finally
landing on the wet, golden sand of the beach. I
laughed as we stopped and he put me down.
Master, it is as if you have sprouted wings! I
said delightedly. Can we do it again? The
Master laughed too. We will, on our way back.
There is no other way to catch a boat on this

island. Believe me, Germain, you are the only


Parisian who has ever done that, he said. They
are almost entirely isolated here. The grown-ups
may have gone out of their island occasionally, but
the children here never saw a white boy before!
He was referring to a crowd of children of
all ages that had already gathered around us. They
looked at me as if I were an alien creature. Of
course, wearing a small cap, dressed like a
Parisian child, and having white skin and green
eyes, I must have struck them as utterly bizarre.
Some of them moved closer, and gently touched
me, as if wondering if I were real. They were very
quiet and polite, though, and as I smiled at them,
they smiled back and bowed. I, in turn, found the
inhabitants a little strange as well, since the men,
women, and children wore clothes that to me
seemed very similar and I could not tell who was
who. They all looked so much the same.
After a while we walked toward the village,
followed by children at a small distance. The
island, being a very poor place, had no electricity.
Instead, they used lanterns. As dusk fell, one

lantern after another was lit, white, orange, green,


red, and gold, the little lights were like shooting
stars coming from all directions toward me. Being
used to the lamps that were lit all at once in Paris,
this gradual, organic illumination of the soft
darkness was magical to me.
Our destination was a small temple on the
top of a hill. Before entering, the Master showed
me the Wheels of Fortune. The colorful wheels
were attached to sticks. As you passed by them,
you were supposed to turn them, one by one, for
luck. They begun to spin, changing colors and
making a soothing noise.
We entered a big room with high ceiling, the
lovely scent of amber permeating the air. Candles
were lit in many little niches, and everywhere
stood little statues of men and women, made of
green, pink, and lilac stone or metal. The whole
place was incredibly colorful, full of tints I have
never seen before except in crayon boxes. Such
colors were not used in Paris, or in Benares, but
here they leapt out of the crayon box and into the
real world. Huge masses of flowers filled the

place, and the richness and liveliness of this room


were like the birth of a fresh, new universe.
You can bow before the Buddha and ask for
a favor, said the Master. Its the custom.
Very well, I said, and bowed to a large
statue. I want to grow up, be a big president in
France, and not let any Germans come to France
ever again.
So, said the Master, smiling kindly at me.
You want to be a president, an important person?
Yes, I said, I want to be important. Of
course I do. Doesnt everyone?
No, no, said the Master. This is not a
good thing to ask from the Buddha. Remember,
Buddha was born a prince, but he did not want to
be an important person. Instead, he wanted to do
good. So he would not like such a request. The
best thing to do is to start by asking favors for
others.
But this would be stupid, as I would be
getting nothing for myself, I said, a bit
bewildered.
Dont you see? If you ask favors for others

first, then they will ask favors for you first!


That made sense. It may be that a large
numbers of people will ask favors for me, if I start
like that. I listened carefully as he continued. This
way you get rid of egoism, you dont thing about
yourself first, you give first and receive later. I
will show you. Ask the Buddha that the children of
this fishing village will be happy and healthy, and
never go hungry. I did as he asked, and he put his
hand on my shoulder and took me out of the temple.
Outside, the children, who apparently followed us
all the way to the temple, were chatting or playing
with some homemade toys. One of the toys was
made from a stick, which held a drum made from
thick paper. A small cord, ending with a sturdy
knot, was attached to two sides of the drum. The
child would twirl the stick, and the knots in the
cords would hit the drum and make a very beautiful
sound. One of the children came forward, and
unexpectedly offered me his own drum as a gift. I
was delighted, and thanked him as best I could.
The children laughed and ran away, singing and
chatting like many little birds. You see? said the

Master. You received without asking.


It was true, I thought. I asked a favor for the
children, and the children gave me a toy. I cannot
begin to tell how good this exchange felt. So
different from the Parisian way. So lovely and
kind. Later I found out that this was really a way of
life in this village. The people, poor as they were
and experiencing constant struggle for survival,
were unusually loving. For example, they had to
live in close proximity to each other, in truly
crowed conditions. Instead of being unhappy about
it, they took advantage of the closeness by always
knowing who needed help. Often, the cooking was
communal. If someone needed food, he or she
knew that soon enough a neighbor or two would
know about it and share their own meagre
supplies.
We are going to stay in this temple as our
lodging, said the Master.
What? We will sleep here, with all these
statues? Where?
No, do you see the beautiful curtain by the

far wall? The one made of silk and lace? The


woman who is in charge of this temple lives
behind this curtain. She has rooms to let, and I
have arranged in advance for us to sleep there.
We walked behind the curtains, and entered a
corridor that led to a few rooms. Each was lined
with wood and clay, and had a low ceiling, unlike
the very high ceiling of the temple. They were very
clean and neat, and after the woman gave us an
excellent dinner consisting a long strips of fish that
were cooked in flour, rice, and bowls of dried
fruit. As soon as I finished eating, I sank into one
of the very comfortable beds, exhausted by my
adventurous day, and slept immediately.
I woke up very late; wishing to find the
bathroom, I wandered here and there and could not
find it. I was annoyed, but luckily as I walked out
the Master was there. Are you looking for the
bathroom? he said.
Yes, I went all over the house, there is no
bathroom! I said.
They wont have a bathroom in the house,
said the Master. You fell asleep so quickly I had

no time to tell you. All the bathrooms are in the


yard, since they consider it unclean to have one in
the house. I shook my head, wondering about the
difference of civilizations from each other, and
went in the direction the Master pointed at.
We will go about the island and show you how
people live here, said the Master. We went down
to the small beach. Some boats were on the beach,
turned upside down, and the men were repairing
them. Unfortunately, the Master explained, they are
so poor, and have so little wood, that sometimes
they had to simply patch a boat rather than fix it
properly, and endangered themselves when they
went to sea. But they had no choice in the matter.
Others were fixing their fishing equipment. I saw
that when they fished near the beach, they used
nets, and when they fished farther in the water, they
used boxes made of rattan or bamboo. Would you
like to try to fish? said the Master.
I have never fished before, I said. What would
you use, a net or a box?
Neither, said the Master. We went to the edge of
the sea. Soft little waves touched the rocks that

lined the beach like a natural pier.


You can take your shoes off so they wont get wet,
but dont put your feet or play in the water for a
little while, said the Master. We dont want to
scare the fish. He sat on a rock, rolled up his
sleeves, and put his finger in the water. He held
nothing in his hands. I watched, fascinated, as the
fish started to come to his finger, stuck their little
heads up and opened their mouths. From
somewhere, I cant imagine where, the Master
produced quite a lot of crumbs, and fed the fish.
That was the Masters idea of fishing; he never
killed an animal in his life. When he was done, and
the fish left, I grabbed his hand to see if there was
any mysterious object in it, something with which
he called the fish to his fingers. But there was
nothing in his hands, nothing in his sleeves. The
Master laughed. No, I have nothing in my hands,
Germain. It is simply knowing how to use your
hands properly. Do you know how to join your
hands?
Yes, I said, and grasped my hands together.
There is a better way, said the Master. He leaned

his closed fist inside his other hand, which was


open. You see, Germain, the fist, which you make
with the right hand, is for strength and power. The
left hand, left open, is the shield. By holding the
fist and the shield together, you protect others from
your own aggression.
I tried it, and he approved of the way I placed the
hands. Now, he said, I am going to teach you
how to use the hands, followed by your body, to do
what we call ballet with nature. I would like you
to practice it every day. Would you do that? And
later, when we meet again, I will show you the next
step.
Sure, I said. How do you ballet with nature?
First, you move your left arm in circular motion.
Let your body flow with it, your whole body; sway
and turn with it. When you get tired, move the arm
in the same way, only in the opposite direction.
I tried, and it felt very nice both ways.
Now, take the right hand, make a fist, and repeat
the same dancing motion, first in this direction,
then the other. I tried, and again, found it easy.
Then I combined the two motions, under his

instructions, and he approved. I promised I would


do it every day, which I faithfully did. I honestly
thought I was dancing only later I found out,
when it was necessary and urgent, that the Master,
the gentle, loving Master, really taught me the first
rules of deadly self defense, and it would be rather
handy later in life.
In the meantime, we returned to the temple. There
were a few birds on the shore, not many. To my
surprise, they took a look at the Master, and a
couple of them flew straight at him and sat on his
shoulder. The Master produced more crumbs from
thin air, and the birds had their lunch. How did
they know he could feed them, I wondered. They
just know, said the Master. You will find that
animals understand more than people do, if you
love them.
I have learned so much and enjoyed my stay in the
island, but unfortunately we could not stay as long
as we wished. The news came that the weather
was changing and tropical storms were forming not
too far away. We retraced our steps, flying happily
over the little boats again. I enjoyed it so much that

I did not notice that the sky was turning a rather


ugly, greenish gray. We boarded our boat, and
headed to the port. The wind began to rise; the sky
became darker and darker. I looked at the Master
and asked, Is that the big storm?
Yes, said the Master, looking intently at me.
I see the waves are becoming rather high, I
commented in a matter of fact way.
Indeed, said the Master. It may develop into a
rather nasty tropical storm.
How interesting, I said. I will tell everyone at
school that I sailed during a typhoon. They will be
so jealous. The Master started laughing.
What is so funny? I asked, surprised. The
children in Paris dont have a lot of adventures,
like me.
Are you not afraid, Germain?
No, not at all, I said. I am sure the sailors have
done it a thousand times before
Well, said the Master, we have accomplished a
great deal, Germain. You have lost the last trace of
your childhood fears. I am proud of you.
But this was not entirely the end. There was one

more proof I needed for myself, and that happened


a few years later, when I was already in high
school. A group of bullies, who did not like my
political views, or anything else about me for that
matter, surrounded me in the schoolyard. For a
moment a pang of fear struck through me, but it did
not last. I was suddenly cold and calm, and for
reasons I did not at the time understand, I started
doing the ballet with nature the Master taught me
on the island by the sea. I waved my arms quite
correctly, and then my right hand, made into a fist,
shot into the face of the leader. In an instant, he
was on the floor, his nose bleeding profusely. The
rest lunged at me, but my arms, entirely on their
own, waved in the air and one by one they joined
their leader, except for those who ran away. That
was the last proof I ever needed. I have never,
since this incident, experienced fear.
We have reached the shore with no trouble.
The storm veered and turned back into the sea, and
we stayed for a couple of days and then went back
to Paris. I was sad on the plane, since I had a

feeling it was going to be a while before the


Master will come back for me. But the Master
said, Dont be unhappy, Germain. We will always
see each other again, and no matter what, I will
always know where you are. Come, let me show
you how to make paper flowers, like the rose I
made for you in Benares. You can give it to your
mother when you get home. This cheered me up.
I will also make one for Sylvie, and one for Aunt
Pauline, I said. And so I learned how to make my
first origami, hoping that some day I will learn
how to turn them into real flowers, just like the
Master.

Lesson

One: Arawadi
_____________________________
How this technique will enhance your life

You are facing a problem. It may be emotional, physical, or financial,


and it seems overwhelming, with no way out. You have exhausted all
normal options, and you are desperate. This technique, if followed
properly, will give you the solution to your problem. The technique is
the same for any problem.
The solution is tailored to each persons individual needs,
preferences, lifestyle, and situation.

Fear, said the Master, is a feeling. It is not


a concrete object. Together with other
feelings, thoughts, and problems, it can be
resolved through our minds alone, without any
physical action. For this, You have to train
yourself to know and feel Arawadi.
What does it mean, Master?
Arawadi is a word shared by the Ulema and
their Teachers, the Anunnaki, said the

Master. It describes the supernatural power


or faculty that allows you to halt and send
away problems and mishaps to another time
and another place.
Is it very difficult, Master?
It is a very complex concept that touches
metaphysics, esoterism, and physics. You
dont know these subjects as yet, and some of
the concepts you will not understand, but you
will remember what I teach you and you will
have it in writing for the future. Some day you
will understand it perfectly and teach it to
anyone who needs help.
The Arawadi Technique
Go to your room, and close the door. You
need privacy for the duration of the exercise.
Sit down on your bed, and close your eyes.
Tell yourself you have a bag; any shape that
comes to your mind is fine. Strongly visualize
yourself holding the bag in your hands,
imagining exactly what the bag looks like.

Gather the problems you wish to resolve


and dump them in the bag.
Close the bag and place it on the floor. Tell
you mind you are about to get rid of the bag
and its contents.
Staying calm, never rushing, lie down flat on
your back.
With your eyes still closed, take a deep
breath, and continue breathing slowly, in and
out.
Slowly, spread your arms and your legs.
Give a name, any name you wish, to your
right foot.
Give a name, any name you wish, to your
left foot.
Address your right foot by its name, and tell
it to command your left foot to go to sleep.
Address your left foot and tell it that it is
going to sleep.
Address your right foot and tell it to go to
sleep.
Remain calm; a strange feeling, the likes of
which you have never experienced, will come

over you. If you dont feel it within two


minutes or so, repeat the procedures until it
comes.
Give a name, any name you wish but
different than your own name, to your body.
Addressing your body by its name,
command it to go to sleep. Repeat this
procedure four times.
Tell yourself: I am floating. Repeat five
times.
The strange feeling will become stronger;
you are now in a state of trance.
You will begin to feel that a heavy weight is
entering your head. This is a good sign, do not
fight it.
All of a sudden, you will feel that you are
floating.
Tell yourself that you can go anywhere you
want, even very, very far.
Tell yourself to go to the sea. In a few
seconds, you will begin to see the sea below
you.
Lower yourself nearer the surface of the sea.

You will notice that you are carrying the


bag, since your mind had not forgotten to do
so.
Open the bag, and spit on its contents.
Empty the bag into the sea, making sure it is
now completely empty.
Rise up in the air.
Floating, tell yourself that you have dumped
all your troubles into the sea.
Ask your mind to repeat to your body that
you have dumped all your troubles into the
sea.
Tell your mind to take you back home.
Instantly, you will find yourself in your
room, lying on the bed, and holding the bag.
Keep your eyes closed.
Check the bag. Inside the bag, you will find
the solution to your problems. You will very
likely be amazed by what you see, but do not
doubt your eyes. This, indeed, is the solution
to your problem
Tell your body to wake up, and your eyes
will slowly open. The solution, and how to

apply it to your problem, will remain clear in


your memory, and you will be able to act
upon it as soon as you wish.
*** *** ***

Chapter Two
Moving to the Middle East, and
Encountering Tay Al Ard

Political issues in Paris


Moving to the Middle East
Troubles in Morocco
On to Damascus
A palatial mansion that has no toilets
Mama brings Parisian elegance to the
Middle East
Business success and a happy life in
Damascus
Reunion with Master Li
Meeting the supernatural Tuareg Ulema
Telekinetic activity
Lesson Two: Tay Al Ard.

Madame, there

are no toilets in this house!


Bernadette, one of the old and trusted servants who
came with us from Paris, ran into the room, her
face showing despair and disbelief.
But there have to be, said Mama
dubiously. They are human, they have toilets!
She looked at our host, M. Loupin, with a
question mark in her eyes. There are toilets, right,
M. Loupin?
Well, said M. Loupin, yes, there are
toilets, but they are a little different than what you
are used to, perhaps, Madame Lumire
No, Madame, no, he is lying, there are no
toilets. They have something horrible, terrible,
instead I said it again and again, we should have
stayed in Paris, what are we doing here with these
primitive people, so unhygienic, we will die from
disease and starvation
Since Bernadette was rather fat and

comfortable looking, I did not think she was in


immediate danger of dying from starvation, but I
kept my mouth shut, waiting to see what was about
to happen.
Show me, Bernadette, said Mama, and
regally swept after the servant. And she really did
look regal. Her commanding height, and beauty,
and her strong presence were enhanced by her
superbly elegant Dior suit. She wore her hat,
gloves, and pearls, and she looked every inch like
royalty, particularly in our new and exotic
surroundings. I followed, intrigued, and so did M.
Loupin, though he did that in a rather reluctant
fashion.
Bernadette took us upstairs. I saw three
bathrooms containing huge bathtubs that could
easily fit a few people in each, much like small
swimming pools. The walls were beautifully done
with small mosaic tiles. But this is very nice,
said Mama, surprised. No, no, Madame, cried
Bernadette, come here! and she opened a door to
a small room, the size of a normal toilet. It was
entirely empty, and had a hole in the ground. Oh,

that! I said. I saw those in Morocco. Remember


when I visited this boy from my class, Mama? This
is what they had. Its very difficult to use, you sort
of fall backwards.
Mama had never seen one of these
contraptions, since in Morocco we stayed in a
French hotel and it had all the European amenities.
She looked at the hole, speechless with horror. M.
Loupin fidgeted, saying nothing. Mama took out a
handkerchief and dabbed at her eyes.
This is disgraceful, she said. Everything
public is well presented, truly beautiful. Inside,
this is living like pigs. In France, the kitchen and
the bathrooms are the most important rooms in the
house. I will not live like an Arab, M. Loupin.
This is the best house we can give you,
Madame, said M. Loupin in despair.
Well, lets take a look at everything, said
Mama. I dont want to make a hasty decision,
since the house is indeed beautiful.
I liked the house, so I was glad she did not
storm out of it and go back to the hotel. It really
was a palace. From the street level, forty or fifty

stairs took you to a terrace, paved with old,


beautiful stones. Many potted palm trees stood
around the terrace, and you could see more trees
and lush vegetation in the garden that surrounded
the house. From the terrace, three stairs led to a
thirty-feet wide veranda. It had five columns,
separated by stone arches, Ottoman style. The
faade was Turkish in style, with blown glass for
windows, the front ones small, the side ones long
and narrow. They glowed softly in many colors,
like sea shells.
From the Veranda, you walked straight into a huge
hall. The floor was made of marble placed in
intricate designs, the large white stones contrasting
with black mosaics. The room contained more
columns, enclosing small niches. The ceiling was
high, between fourteen to sixteen feet, and the
lowest four feet of the wall were covered with
frescoes of animals and intricate arabesques. The
rest of the wall was painted light blue, and the
ceiling had frescoes as well.
Still, palatial as the place looked, the elegance of
the front rooms was spoiled by the primitive

amenities. According to Bernadette, the electricity


did not work well, and there was no visible source
of heat. And where are the bedrooms?
Oh, said M. Loupin cheerfully. No need to
worry about that. You take any room you want, put
the mattress there, make a bedroom! In silence,
Mama walked through the six rooms on the second
floor. They were big and empty, but had beautiful,
large windows that admitted the warm sunlight. A
mattress, she said to no one in particular. He
wants me to sleep on a mattress on the floor. She
looked out of the window at the magnificent garden
for a few minutes, reflecting. And what about the
dining room? she asked in a voice that was arctic
in its iciness. M. Loupin did not notice.
For this we must go downstairs again, Madame,
he said. Its off the living room. By the term
living room he meant the huge hall, and indeed, the
spacious dining room was elegantly proportioned,
its floor made of shining yellow tiles, the walls
paneled with dark, polished wood. It was suitable
for large-scale entertainment, but had only one
naked light bulb in the middle of the ceiling.

Mama, used to a crystal chandelier in every dining


room she had ever occupied, ignored the sight and
asked, Where are the kitchens? Naturally, they
were at the far end of the house, incredibly big,
and with appliances that must have been made
during the stone age.
M. Loupin, she said, This is a difficult
decision. The house is entirely Arab, everything
public is lovely, everything private is primitive.
One gets used to this, said M. Loupin with stoic
resignation, a quality Mama definitely did not
possess.
Not me, M. Loupin. I am going to tear much
of the house down and create a place that will be
fit for my children, my servants, and myself.
M. Loupin shrugged. He knew her well
enough to realize that she would do exactly as she
pleased. So you will stay, Madame?
We stay, said Mama. Sylvie and I cheered,
and Bernadette glared, but then shrugged her ample
shoulders and visibly rose to the occasion,
accepting the inevitable.

But I must go back in time and tell how we


got to Damascus in the first place.
After the war, we thought that once we got rid of
the German occupation, all ethnicities in France
would be treated as equals. We must have been
nave. Rampant favoritism and waves of antiSemitism created an atmosphere that was
reminiscent of the days of the Reign of Terror after
the French Revolution. The government, openly in
control, rewarded the members of the Resistance
by giving them all the business they could find, and
ignoring everyone else. Mama thought that being
the widow of a respected Resistance leader would
gain her their favor, but she was also a Jew. No
one wanted to do business with a Jew, and the
government even prevented Jews from immigrating
to France. To be quite honest, the Gaullists were
sometimes as bad as the Germans when it came to
their hatred of Jews.
There were many reasons for this treatment, and
the most important one was the fact that Jews were
not eager to join the Resistance. They did not want
to die for France, or have their sons and daughters

killed for the cause; in general, they were more


interested in the prospects available in Palestine.
The Gaullists felt betrayed by the Jews, and the
cycle of hatred continued unchecked. Its hard to
judge such a situation, where both sides have real
reason for resentment, but right or wrong, Mama
became increasingly isolated, and her hope that the
Gaullists would help her because of my father did
not materialize.
And then a strange thing happened. Certain
officials of the Vichy government, located in
pockets in various parts of the world, got in touch
with Mama. They explained to her that strong
communities of their people settled in Morocco,
Algeria, Syria, and Lebanon. The officials told
Mama she had no future in France, and warmly
advised her to get out, at least for a few years. At
first she was surprised by their friendly attitude,
and then learned that it was a deliberate attempt to
show that they were not really collaborators, just
good people who adhered to their political ethics.
They tried to prove it by helping French Jews, so
in other words, it was a public relations program.

In addition, they particularly wanted wealthy Jews,


with the view of partnering with them in various
business enterprises, and Mama was exactly what
they had hoped for as a partner.
Naturally, Mama hesitated for a while, but as
her business problems became insurmountable, she
decided to go. It took some time, because
arrangements had to be made for the house and the
vineyards, and finding honest, reliable caretakers
was not an easy matter. Luckily, the convent Mama
helped so often came to the rescue. Mother
Superior arranged to have a few nuns stay at the
house, turning it into a small orphanage until such
time when the family chose to return to Paris. The
vineyards were also put under the care of the
convent, and the business therefore could continue
without a break and without dismissing any
employees. We were finally ready to go.
After my trips with the Master, I felt I was a
seasoned traveler and rather boasted about it to
little Sylvie, from my high vantage point of being
ten years old, while she was only eight. She did
not mind at all, ignored my boasting, and with her

sunny disposition enjoyed the commotion of


packing and later the trip to Morocco, our
destination. We chose Morocco because of the
large Jewish population and the strong French
culture. Mamas plan was to take her money and
some of her large collections of furniture and
antiques, and open an import-export business. It
was a good plan and had the initial support of her
Vichy officials, but unfortunately, it did not work
out quite the way Mama envisioned it.
Most of the Jewish population in Morocco
turned out to be dismally poor, and as soon as
Mama came, descended on her like a cloud of
locusts. She helped as best she could, but there
was no end to the demands, and her resources,
while certainly large, were not unlimited. So when
a totally unrealistic demand was made that she
would buy a ship, equip it, hire a crew, and send a
huge number of Jews out of the country, she plainly
refused. The communitys affection immediately
turned into virulent hatred, which was truly
incomprehensible after all the help Mama extended
to them. Worse, some threats were actually made, a

very unusual situation in any Jewish community. I


suppose poverty, war, and despair damaged many
minds in that period. Mama no longer felt safe. She
went to some of her Vichy supporters, told them
about the threats, and explained that she still
wished to stay in the Middle East, but in a different
type of community.
The Vichy people understood, possibly
having seen it all before. Their advice was clear
and simple. Pack up, leave, and go to Damascus,
where the most powerful Vichy stronghold existed.
It was to be a long and complicated trip, first to
Spain, from there to Lebanon, then to Aleppo in
Syria, then finally to Damascus. She thought it over
and decided to pursue the advice, and then had a
secret meeting with a very high official. I was not
there, naturally, but later she told me about it.
Apparently, he gave her terse, simple, but useful
advice: Madam Lumire, keep your mouth shut.
Tell no one you are a Jew. We will protect you and
introduce you to the right people. Such deception
was shocking to a proud person like Mama, but she
realized that this was a reality she had to face, and

agreed. There and then, she was discretely


introduced to a French ex-colonel, who ostensibly
took a job as her secretary, but also functioned as a
body guard, who would later go with us on the trip
and stay in Damascus until we were settled. All the
papers would be taken care of by the officials, and
the elaborate preparations for our departure had
begun. It did not take long; in a few weeks we
were on our way to a new and extremely exciting
life.
Once in Damascus, after the first shock
regarding the missing toilets in our new and
otherwise palatial home, we settled to our new
life. Fortunately, this time everything worked out.
The Vichy supporters introduced Mama to one of
the most prominent people in the country, who was
a Christian, and they became partners in a new
business consisting of rugs, cosmetics, and leather.
We were rich before. Now, we were on our way to
becoming fabulously wealthy.
Mama would not change her European ways or
attempt to adjust to the Arab lifestyle. She bought

the lovely house, and after much construction and


shopping made it into a civilized and comfortable
place to live in. The house became the talk of the
town since it was the first to have a refrigerator.
People came to inspect the tiny cubes of ice that
were created by the trays; most people still had ice
boxes and had to break chips of the large ice slab
that was delivered as needed. They also loved the
telephone and came to use it. We made many
friends, and life was good.
Mama refused to consider the Arab schools, even
though some of them were perfectly fine. She found
two strictly French schools, one for boys, one for
girls, where Sylvie and I were taught by nuns, just
like in Paris. I actually liked the school from the
first day but possibly because it had decent
bathrooms and I hated the toilets at home until they
were properly fixed
One thing we mildly regretted later. For once,
Mama did not recognize the great Arab art, and had
a painter cover the frescoes and illustrations on the
walls and the ceiling in the big hall. Perhaps the
style was unfamiliar to her. A few years later, a

French cultural attach told her she had committed


a crime, covering art that was created by the
greatest designer of the Sultan in Istanbul. Perhaps,
but Mama did not fret over it. It would not be too
difficult for the next owner to remove that paint
and restore the frescoes after all, she said, and
dismissed the matter from her mind. She would
live like a French woman in a French household,
and that was that.
Two years after we arrived in Damascus, I
was playing in the garden. One of the servants
came out and told me, We have some Chinese
people in the house. They want to see you. I had
no idea who they could be, and went into the
house, rather surprised. As soon as I crossed the
threshold, I froze, noticing a faint, delicate scent of
amber mixed with flowers in the air. Only one
person on earth was associated with this unique
scent combination. I instantly knew the Master
came for me. I ran to him and we hugged each
other, I was so happy to see him, I missed him so
much. Suddenly I realized that he looked different

he was dressed in a European suit, not his usual


Chinese robes. And wont you say hello to my
wife? he said, laughing. I looked at the woman
who stood nearby, smiling, and did not recognize
her. Who was this lady, dressed like an elegant
European, wearing makeup and perfume? She
laughed at my amazement and I suddenly
recognized my old friend and was delighted to see
her. The first thought that crossed my mind was
Thank Heaven we fixed the toilets
They loved the house, and we gave them a
beautiful room on the second floor. They planned
to stay a week or so, and I spent all the time I
could with the Master, while his wife went with
Mama to various shops and places of interest. I
was hoping he would mention a new trip, but as the
visit took place in the middle of the school year, I
knew it was not likely to happen. But this was the
Master, so I knew something wonderful was bound
to happen even if we stay put.
And indeed it happened. A couple of days
later, the Master told me he wanted to introduce me
to some important people. I did not know what to

expect, and was rather surprised when he headed


toward the suk, as they called the market. What
kind of important people could we meet at the suk,
I wondered, but said nothing and waited to see
what was going to happen.
I always loved visiting the suk. It was an
extensive, ancient marketplace, part of it in the
open air, the other part, which was my favorite,
made up of narrow streets under massive arches of
stone that served as a roof. Each arch had carvings
on it, either pictures or letters, half rubbed off with
age. The ground was covered with old, irregular
stone slabs. The stores were narrow, each like a
hole in the wall and secured with heavy wooden
doors. Many were very small, like tiny caves.
Others, though still narrow, were long and
burrowed deep into the buildings. Even during
daytime the suk was dark, so yellow lamps shed
intimate, golden light over the merchandise.
Everything burst with deep, glowing, jewel-toned
colors. Most of the vendors spread or hung the
colorful objects around the entrance, to entice the
customers to come in. Anything and everything was

sold there handmade rugs, silk and cotton


clothes, accessories, cosmetics, spices, pickles,
sacks of rice, beans, sugar, and coffee anything
you could think of. Copperware shone softly under
the glowing lights, wood and leather furniture,
inlaid with shells and mother-of-pearl, were piled
with gorgeous silver jewelry, musical instruments
produced a faint sound as the people pushed
against them, and the scents of coffee, spices, food,
and heavy perfumes lingered in the air. It was a
place of magic.
We entered a shop that sold beautiful
copperware and furniture made of wood and inlaid
with mother-of-pearl. Inside, he said a few words
in Arabic to the man who was sitting at the shop.
This was the first time I heard him speak Arabic,
and I was surprised; how many languages did the
Master speak, I wondered. The Arab took us to the
back of the shop, to a little room behind a curtain.
We entered, and inside sat a most imposing man,
wearing a blue Tuareg outfit and a large turban. He
was old and his beard was white, and to me he
looked like a mixture of a rabbi, a priest, and a

patriarch, very different from the sheiks and the


clerics we saw in the street. I sensed that he was
very special.
As they were greeting each other in Arabic, I was
surprised that the Tuareg did not rise. Arabs are
extremely polite and hospitable, and it is unusual
that a host would not get up to greet a guest. The
Master introduced me, and we sat on a low divan
across a little table from the Tuareg. He offered us
coffee, and one of the workers in the shop came in
with a tray, and poured it into three tiny cups. The
Master and our host took their drink without sugar,
but I could not drink Turkish coffee like that since I
found it very bitter, and so I put some sugar into it.
When I finished my coffee, the Tuareg asked me to
give him my cup. He shook it a few times,
allowing the coffee grounds and sugar to spread
themselves around the cup, and said, smiling, I am
going to read your future. He started by telling me
about my past, and what I was doing now, all
perfectly accurate. He proceeded to tell me a few
things about my doings in the future, then put the
cup on the table. I was terribly curious. What was

in the cup that could tell him so much? So I stood


up to pick the cup, but the Tuareg said, no need to
move, the cup will come to you if you want it,
since you are such a good boy. The Master said,
he really is a good boy, which made me very
proud, but before I could thank him, the cup rose in
the air and floated toward me, and landed on in my
lap. I looked at the Tuareg with speechless
amazement.
We call this Tay Al Ard, said the Tuareg. It
means, Folding of the Earth. I did not know what
to say, having never heard the term. You can pick
up the cup now, said the Tuareg. What do you
want to do with it?
I just want to see the things you saw when you
told me about the past and the future, I said. I
looked inside, but the cup contained nothing more
than some coffee grounds and a bit of sticky sugar.
There is only coffee mud inside! I said,
disappointed.
Look again, said the Tuareg.
I looked. The cup became very heavy. I put it in my
lap, and the mud inside started to move and fold,

like a living creature. I gazed at it, fascinated, but


did not know what it meant.
Can I take it home and show it to my mother? I
said. The cup flew again and went to the table. No,
it did not want to go home with me.
The Master said, This is your first lesson. I had
no idea what he meant, and the two of them started
to speak in a language I have never heard before.
Then the Master rose and told me it was time to
leave. The Tuareg said goodbye to me, very kindly,
and I noticed that again he did not rise.
In the street, I asked the Master, Why did he not
get up? This is unusual, and in any other way he
was so polite and kind.
He has been sitting like this for thirty years,
Germain.
So he never leaves this room? I asked,
incredulously.
He does leave the room when he goes to teach in
a very special school, which we call Mahad. He
teleports himself.
He can do that? He can fly through the air?
Really?

He can do many unusual things. But he cannot


walk.
What happened to him, Master?
Years ago, he had an accident and became
paralyzed. He was offered two options by some
very special people. He could save his body and
walk again, or lose his body and acquire
knowledge. He chose knowledge and was initiated
by these people into a secret order of great
scholars.
Who were they, Master?
They were Ulema, Germain, and he is an Ulema
as well. The Ulema are teachers of very secret and
important knowledge.
And he lost his ability to walk?
His body was cut in half, Germain. He has no
lower body at all.
No lower body? He is just a half of a person?
Yes, he is just a half. That is why he cannot rise to
greet his guests.
So how does he live? How does he eat?
He does not need to eat. He could, perhaps, if he
wanted to, but he has no reason too.

But he drank coffee! Does he go to the


bathroom? The Master laughed. No, he does not
need to go to the bathroom. Anything he drinks
evaporates from his body. When you have Tay Al
Ard, you dont need a physical presence. It is no
longer of any importance.
I walked along, deep in thought. Master, I finally
said, you said it was my first lesson. I suppose
you mean the Tay Al Ard, but this is not so. It was
not my first lesson. The Master gave me a quick,
searching look.
What was your first lesson, then? he asked
quietly.
The paper bird that you made in Benares. The one
that became a real bird and flew to the paper rose
that also became a real flower and attached itself
to the rosebush.
I see, said the Master. So you figured it all out.
Yes, I think so, I said. I did not add what I have
realized, and knew with an assurance that cannot
be explained, then or now. There was no need to
say anything. The Master knew that I understood
that he, too, was an Ulema, and that he was doing

me the inconceivable honor of teaching me and


giving me his friendship. Why did he choose me?
What have I done to deserve such happiness? I had
no idea. I was only twelve years old, so I could not
tell where it started, and what all this would lead
to in the future, but I knew one thing with an
absolute certainty I was the luckiest boy in the
world.

*** *** ***

Lesson Two: Tay Al Ard


_____________________________
Tay Al Ard, said the Master, is the
metaphysical experience that produces a
teleportation phenomenon.
Would I be able to do it? I asked. I
envisioned myself hopping at will to every corner
of the earth, not even bothering to pack.
Perhaps some day. It is extremely complicated
and sometimes even dangerous. For the moment, I
just want you to understand the concepts.
Where did the teachings come from?
The Ulema learned it from Rou-hi-yin, who
are supreme beings that dwell in the fifth
dimension. For many years, they practiced
peacefully all over the world. When Islam came to
the Middle East, the Prophet Muhammad banned
Tay Al Ard, and many of the Ulema teachers
became Allamah, prominent figures in letters,
literature, science, and religion. However, not all
of them renounced their Ulema identity. Those who

chose to remain Ulema, remained the custodians of


the Anunnaki secret knowledge and esoteric
powers. They joined the circle of Non-Muslim
Ulema and the groups shared their knowledge. This
was common particularly among the Sufis.
What do the words Tay Al Ard mean? I
asked.
The words mean the folding of space. To put
it simply, you traverse the earth without moving.
Instead of physically moving from one place to
another, the enlightened persons do the exact
opposite. They bring the place they want to reach
to where they stand. The very earth of the place
that they wanted to reach actually moves, and is
placed under their feet.
Can you see the earth as it moves?
Never. It happens in a blink of an eye, no
matter how far the destination is.
And only the Ulema know how to do it,
Master?
That depends how you look at it. Under other
names, the phenomenon manifests itself in many
other cultures. But some say that all of the great

people who practiced Tay Al Ard, such as the


great king Solomon from Judea, were secret Ulema
anyway. It is well known that King Solomon
moved the throne of the Queen of Sheba to his own
palace so that she would feel at home during her
visit with him. The event was recorded by both
Islamic and Jewish teachings.
Are there any scientific explanations as to how
it works? I asked. The Master smiled. He saw I
was already going in the right direction, and it
pleased him.
This is a very good question, He said. It was
once well put by the Ulema Cheik Al Kabir. His
exact words were: Time is represented with two
lines not perfectly aligned; one for you, the other
for what is not you. Space is represented with two
circles, one for you, the other for what is not you.
If you manage to place yourself between one of the
two lines and one of the two circles without
touching the other line and the other circle, you
will conquer time-space.
I considered this. But time is not going in two
lines, Master. It goes straight from yesterday to

tomorrow, through today, in one line.


That is what most people think, but they are
wrong, and great thinkers understand the
malleability of time and space. Sufis, Gnostics,
pre-Islamic, Islamic, and Jewish scholars, all
wrote about it. The Jewish Kabbalists, in
particular, engaged themselves in the study of Tay
Al Ard, but had a different name for it, in Hebrew.
They called it Kefitzat Haderach, meaning, word
by word, the jumping of the road, but translated
as the ability to jump instantaneously from one
place to another or travel with unnatural speed. It
was widely documented by them.
What about modern scientists? I asked.
Einstein discussed it in a number of his papers,
and it was a component of his General Relativity
Theory, relating to the warping of space-time
enabled by the effects of gravity.
I read fairy tales and science fiction stories
about such things, I said.
Of course you did. Fiction writers have been
using it for many years, said the Master. But
it is based on truth.

But I still dont understand the principle of


it, I said. How does the earth jump?
There are many explanations, said the Master,
none of them complete, since mysteries are
sometimes only partially understood. Look at it this
way. Newtonian physics, which did not allow such
occurrences, were replaced long ago. Such things
as wormholes, dark matter, and space-time fluidity
allow much more flexibility in investigating
teleportation. For example, Quantum physics has
proven that particles, such as photons and atoms,
can appear instantaneously at a new place without
traveling through space in any visible manner.
Perhaps this phenomenon is possible by encoding
information about an object, transmitting the
information to another place, and creating a copy
of the original in the new location.
In this solution, then, the earth does not jump.
This is correct. But in both explanations the
physical phenomenon is similar, as it is based on
the disintegration of the atoms, those of the earth or
those of the person, and their reassembly at the
place of destination. I see no true conflict here.

In the stories I read, the person just wishes to


go somewhere, and there he goes, I said.
Again, this is not a contradiction, said the
Master. In Western science it is now assumed that
space does not have an objective reality, and
reality itself is thought of as observer-based and
subjective entity. If so, then ideas such as traveling
in space without actually physically moving are no
longer so strange. In this way, Tay Al Ard is
viewed as the manipulation of reality by the person
who wishes to travel from point one to point two
in an environment that is subject to the travelers
will.
And so, I said, the idea is everywhere,
stories, science, different cultures, and you know
many people who have done it. I suppose you have
done it too.
Yes, I have, said the Master.
Well, then, I said, why cant I learn to do it
right away?
Because a child might be hurt in some of the
places you might want to jump to, Germain. If the
environment is not safe, and you are even a little

bit confused by it, you wont be able to find your


way out and may even be killed. Lets wait until
you are an adult.
Ah, well, I said resignedly. I guess the trip
I was planning to the South Pole, to visit the
penguins, must be postponed.
Just a few years, said the Master.

*** *** ***

Chapter Three:
Baalbeck: A Visit to the
Underground City of the Djinn and
Afrit
A journey to RyuKyu Islands
Studying an unusual self defense technique
with two masters
Graduating high school
A trip to Baalbeck
Early history of the Anunnaki visits to earth
Meeting Taj and the great Cheik Al Huseini
Supernatural preparations and a visit to the
underground city
Moving in other dimensions
Encounters with Djinn and Afrit
A great treasure is found
Manifesting The Book of Rama Dosh.

Time

passed. We were settled in our home in


Damascus, now fitted with all the European
amenities, Mamas business became very
successful, and Sylvie and I were doing well in
our schools and made many friends. The Master
visited us often since his travels took him again
and again to the Middle East. He had always
functioned as an advisor to many dignitaries from
various political spectrums and religious beliefs,
and at that time he was the head of an important,
international brotherhood, unrelated to the Ulema.
This powerful brotherhood included people from
all religions and political affiliations, and was
spread over many countries. Naturally, between his
duties to this organization, and his work as an
Ulema, he was extremely busy, but that did not
prevent him from instructing me and supervising
my advancement. When I was fourteen years old,
he decided to take me to the RyuKyu Islands, or
Okinawa, in Japan.
There are two teachers I would like you to
meet. Both are experts in Zen meditation and

calligraphy, said the Master, which you should


be instructed in. But most important, they will
teach you a form of self defense that will be
extremely useful for you in the years to come.
Is it different from what you have taught me,
Master? I asked. I loved self defense, and a new
form would be very exciting, I thought.
Its a variant. The technique is called Dim
Muk, or sometimes, Dim Mak. It is based on the
production of internal energy, called Neicha, and
external energy, called Weicha. It can kill or heal,
depending how you use it. But we shall wait for
the Masters to explain it better.
So as soon as the summer holiday started,
we boarded a plane and after an extremely long
and tedious trip that involved many stops and
changes of transportation, arrived in Okinawa. We
were warmly welcomed by the two Masters. One
was Chinese, a tall, slim, ethereal type of person,
in his late eighties. The other Master was
Japanese, small, strong, rugged, and very physical,
about sixty-five years old. Despite their
differences, they had been good friends for many

years, and lived in close proximity, each in his


own wooden, pagoda-like house, but sharing a
beautiful garden. The Japanese Master had a small
meditation garden adjacent to his house, entirely
covered with beautifully leveled granite gravel.
The Chinese Master, who despite his spiritual
looks and respectable age loved practical jokes,
took advantage of his own habit of rising early to
play a regular trick on his friend. Every day,
around four or five oclock in the morning, he
walked to the little meditation garden and messed
up the perfectly leveled gravel. When the Japanese
Master woke up, he had to rake it again to keep its
seemly appearance. This worried the Japanese
Master very much, since he was afraid that wild
animals came to the garden to disturb the gravel.
The Chinese Master would listen to his friends
complaints with a very serious expression, never
revealing the joke. I found out about it quickly
enough, but the Japanese Master never suspected
his friend for a minute, and went on raking the
gravel with great seriousness every morning. I kept
the secret, finding this silly joke quite hilarious.

The Masters instructed me in their technique


of self defense. They believed that everything
coming from the right side represented positive
energy, while anything from the left side involved
negative energy. The Yang and Yin system, widely
accepted in the East, was based on this principle.
To practice the technique, the student had to
produce energy in his left hand. This energy was
always negative. Then, the energy had to be
transferred to the right hand, at the time choosing
whether the energy will remain negative in both
hands, or become positive in the right hand. If it
remained negative in both hands, the student could
kill his enemies with both hands. If the negative
energy was transformed to positive energy in the
right hand, then the right hand could perform the
Healing Touch and cure people and animals from
injury and illness. It could even revive failing
plants.
I had to practice for years after leaving
Japan, since this is not a skill that comes easily.
But when I became adept, I could not only cure or
hurt others, but also take care of my own body by

the ability to control my own temperature, and the


temperature around me, by touching my body after
producing the correct type of energy. I could also
touch a burning candle and not be hurt by the fire.
The most important advantage for me, I think, is
that it gave me a great boost in confidence when
back in Damascus. Sadly, many Arabs did not like
the Europeans, and sometimes attacked them. To
know that I could defend myself when necessary
was a great relief.
Life went on pleasantly in Damascus. As
members of a wealthy family, attending the right
schools, and being naturally social and friendly,
both Sylvie and I found it easy to acquire an
excellent education, a charming social life, and
generally enjoy ourselves. Mama was also quite
content. All her commercial enterprises were a
roaring success, she became the center of a huge
crowd of Europeans who all adored her, and was
much respected by the Arabs who did business
with her. She continued to be as beautiful, elegant,
and as French in dress and habits as she had

always been, and our home was a magnet to an


eclectic, interesting, and sophisticated company.
An extra special joy was added to my life by the
fact that in addition to my normal studies, I was
given a deeper dimension by my apprenticeship
with the Master. I did not talk about it and kept it
as a precious secret, but these special, strange
studies became the core of my being.
I graduated from high school at seventeen,
and was free for a while. Much thought had to be
given to the decision and preparations for my
university studies. I expressed a desire to go to
Paris for that purpose, and was considering
various fields, but nothing was final. I did not mind
a little time off, though, and enjoyed my temporary
idleness very much. At that time, the Master was
visiting us, and as usual, had an incredibly exciting
plan for me.
Have you ever been to Baalbeck? he asked.
No, never.
Its an interesting city, very old. There is a
lot of controversy as to who built it, though.
Isnt there some historical evidence?

Plenty, but there are four interpretations.


The Christian Lebanese say it was built by the
Phoenicians. The Muslim Lebanese prefer a theory
claiming it was built by Djinn and Afrit. Some
important occult leaders say it was built by Adam,
after he was kicked out of Paradise. Well
And the Ulema, what do they think? I
asked, knowing that this was the theory I would
trust.
The Ulema say it was built by the Anunnaki
and the proto-Phoenicians who lived on the island
of Arwad and in Tyre. There is a lot of evidence in
this direction.
So will I see the ancient parts?
Of course. I would like to take you to a very
special part of the city, where the Founding Fathers
of the Ulema used to meet thousands of years ago.
Unfortunately, we no longer meet there, because it
became a tourist attraction and a state-controlled
center of music and dance festivals. It will be fun
for you, though, to mingle with all these tourists,
its a nice place.
But surely that is not the reason for going, I

said.
No, it is not. I plan to take you to a secret
underground city under Baalbeck, and show you
where the Anunnaki landed for the first time on
earth. Very few people know what is going on
under the modern city of Baalbeck. The first
Anunnaki landing took place before the Deluge,
though they came again and again after the Deluge
as well.
Before the Deluge? When was that,
exactly? I asked.
About 450,000 years ago, perhaps a bit
longer. At that time, the Anunnaki created the
humans.
And what about God? I asked. Even
though I was taught much of the Ulema traditions
and world view, I never heard about the creation
of the human race.
No one ever heard of God 450,000 years
ago. You start to hear about God only around 6,000
years ago, said the Master. I knew enough about
the Anunnaki at that time to accept this without
much trouble, so I went to find Mama and Sylvie

and tell them about the upcoming trip.


The trip from Damascus to Baalbeck could
be accomplished in about two hours, at least you
could do that if you traveled in a decent car. We
took a bit longer to get there, since the car,
borrowed from a friend of the Master who was
also to drive us there, was an ancient Mercedes
that did not use normal gasoline but rather
employed mazut, or diesel fuel, and made such a
racket it was impossible to hear yourself think. To
my surprise, I saw a mysterious Sudanese man
sitting in the back seat, dressed in ill matching
jacket and pants and scowling at us. At the
Masters request, he started to get out of the car to
introduce himself. I watched the process in
fascination, since he was not doing it quickly like a
normal person, but instead was slowly extricating
himself in stages, gradually disentangling himself,
like a huge snake. I have never seen such a tall
man, or anyone as strange. He was about seven feet
tall, very thin, and his face did not look quite
human to me, but like a giant from outer space.

This bizarre apparition just stood there, looked


fierce, and played with a string of amber beads.
The Master ignored his uncouth behavior and
introduced us.
This is Taj, he said. His name means
Crown. He is joining us because he has the key to
the gate of the secret city underground. He is also
able to persuade the Djinn and the Afrit to open
certain doors, which is quite a talent. I was not
sure if the Master was joking about the Djinn and
the Afrit, so I kept quiet, nodded to the Sudanese,
and got in the back seat. Taj folded himself back
into the car and sat beside me, the Master went into
the front seat, and the driver, who seemed to be
normal and cheerful, greeted the Master and me in
a friendly way. The car started making a noise that
was worthy of demons, but I did not care because I
was thinking about the real devils, the Djinn and
the Afrit.
I leaned forward and asked the Master,
Would I be able to see the Djinn and Afrit?
Yes, of course, said the Master casually.
You can even try to talk to them, if you like. The

underground city is actually called the City of the


Djinn and the Afrit; plenty of devils are there.
Since these devils did not seem to frighten the
Master, I assumed he knew what he was doing, and
sat thinking about what my part could be in this
unbelievable adventure. However, I was aware of
increasing irritation by what Taj was doing. He
constantly played with his amber beads, clicking
away on and on. I asked, Why do you have to
click these things all the time?
Taj seemed annoyed by my question. Try
them yourself, he said curtly, and handed them to
me. I grabbed at them, and instantly, a horrible
electric shock went through my entire body, quite
painfully, and I cried out and threw the beads on
the floor of the car. The Master screamed at Taj,
How dare you? How many times did I tell you
never to do that? Give me the beads immediately!
Taj handed him the beads, meekly enough,
and had the grace to look embarrassed. The Master
rubbed the beads, seemingly absorbing and
removing the energy, and then returned them to me.
You can try them now, he said. And dont give

them back to Taj until I tell you to. Taj said


nothing. He seemed unhappy in the car, constantly
fidgeting, and could not sit still. Perhaps he was
claustrophobic, I thought, and the confined space
bothered him. We drove on.
Finally we arrived in Baalbeck. Where now?
said the driver.
We are going to the Athar, the ruins, said the
Master.
I dont know how to get there, said the driver.
Shall I ask for directions? He parked the car.
There were many people around, some Arabs in
traditional garb, some Europeans in every kind of
attire and carrying backpacks and cameras. It
seemed to be such a normal, cheerful place. I
thought of the festivals and the music; how could
there be Afrit and Djinn and all sorts of
underground labyrinths in a place like that? It was
as modern as can be.
When you are with Taj, you do not ask for
directions, said the Sudanese with a superior air.
The driver shrugged, not quite convinced. Taj
winked at me and stared at the drivers neck,

concentrating. The driver suddenly started to beat


his own neck, complaining how much he hated
mosquitoes. I was certain there were no
mosquitoes in the car, and I was sure that Taj
created the imaginary insects that were tormenting
the driver. The drivers neck became really red.
Taj, stop this nonsense immediately! said the
Master severely. Apparently, Taj could send
certain energy rays that had the capacity of
annoying people. Taj stopped, gave the driver the
necessary directions, and we went to the Athar.
First, lets go to the world biggest stone, said
Taj. We drove further, and as we turned a road
toward the Temple of Jupiter, I was shocked by the
sight that met my eyes. It was a huge gray slab,
partially buried in the sand, perfectly cut and
smooth. It was unquestionably man made, not a
natural formation, a short distance from the
Temple. How in the world could such a stone get
there? Who could have carried it? This stone was
so immense that the stones of the Egyptian
pyramids would be infinitely small, completely
dwarfed, if put next to it. The Stonehenge

monoliths would be insignificant if they were


placed next to it. In addition, it was immensely old,
and even modern equipment could hardly cope
with such a giant, let alone ancient technology.
How big is this stone? I asked, truly awed by the
sight.
Seventeen hundred tons, said the Master.
It is hand made, isnt it? I said. It is too straight
to be natural. It simply cant be natural. And yet,
how could it get here, if it is artificial? It just
cant!
Taj grinned and said, Hand made, yes, but not by
human hands.
I was beginning to get the idea. Then who made
it? I asked.
It was part of the landing area used by the
Anunnaki, said the Master. There are six stones
like it. Only the Anunnaki could move such a slab.
Ah, but I can make it fly, boasted Taj.
You must be crazy, I said, disgusted with him.
You want to see? He said.
Sure, I said. I would like to see you do that.
Very well, but not when so many people are

around. We will be back around nine oclock, no


one is around, I will show you.
Since it was around four oclock in the afternoon, I
was wondering how we would spend the time, but
the Master had his own plan.
We have plenty of time to do what needs to be
done, he said. I would like you to meet Cheik Al
Huseini. This was the first time I met the great
man, who later became my teacher.
We went back into the car, and drove to the Cheiks
house. The house was small and modest, built
sturdily of stone, with thick walls. The door was
low, as was normal for middle class Arab houses.
This style was followed for many years, for the
sake of safety and security. Apparently, the
conquering Ottomans used to sweep into houses
that had large entrances while riding on their
horses, and thus be able to kill and destroy anyone
and everything inside. The low entrances forced
the rider to get off his horse first, making him much
less dangerous to the inhabitants.
In the big living room, which they called the
Dar, many sofas were placed against the walls,

arranged next to each other. About twenty to thirty


men were present, dressed in Arab robes and
turbans. All were elderly, with long white beards.
The Cheik was sitting in the place of honor. When
the Master arrived, everyone stood up, repeating
the word oustaz, oustaz, to each other, meaning
teacher. Someone pointed at Taj, and said, The
Afrit is already here. I thought this description
fitted Taj perfectly, but expected him to be angry.
To my surprise, he seemed pleased by being called
that name, and grinned at me like a delighted child.
We sat down, and the men came to kiss the hand of
the Master. The light was low, only one lamp was
turned on, but I could see that one person did not
get up from his seat. Since this was strange
behavior, I looked at him carefully, and to my
amazement recognized the old Tuareg, whom I had
met years ago in the suk in Damascus, the man who
was cut in half. He recognized me as well, smiled,
and motioned to me to come and sit by him. I came,
and he said jokingly, Dont start searching for the
rest of my body I laughed, a little guilty,
because that was exactly what I was planning to

do. At any rate I could see nothing, since the long


robe he wore covered everything. Everyone
conversed in Arabic, which by now I spoke very
well, and after a while the Cheik motioned most
people out. Eight of us remained in the room. The
Master, Taj, and myself were the only outsiders.
The Cheik, the Tuareg, and three other elderly
Arabs completed the number of the people who
were permitted to attend.
At that moment, a man came from an inside room,
carrying a big copper pot, full of steaming hot
water. He put the pot on a table in front of the
Cheik, addressing him by the title Mawlana. This
title meant you are a ruler over me, and was
used only to address kings, sultans, or prophets. I
was surprised. This title belonged to very
important people, but the house and everything in it
spoke of middle class. So what could this mean?
The Cheik must have been a very important person,
somehow. I planned to ask the Master about it
later, not wishing to disturb him with questions at
the moment, since I was sure strange things were
about to begin to occur.

I was sitting near enough to the Cheik to see


everything very clearly, and waited breathlessly
for the events that were to come. The Cheik took
three pieces of blank paper, and threw them into
the hot water in the copper container. The room
was completely silent, no one moved, except Taj,
who whispered to me, You are going to like what
you see, its fun, but dont move no matter what
happens. I nodded, and concentrated on the pot,
looking occasionally at Taj for clarification.
Somehow he assumed the role of my guide to the
occult world, and I realized he knew exactly what
was taking place. Shush, just look at the container,
something is about to happen, he said. I went on
staring at the pot.
Suddenly, in a blink of an eye, the water in the
container disappeared, and the three pieces of
paper burst out of the container. They lined up in
the air, without any support, one after the other.
They waved about for a few seconds, then merged
and became one larger piece. The piece of paper
started swirling in the air, rotating around itself,
quicker and quicker, and suddenly stopped in mid

motion. It was suspended in the air, completely


still, and in a flash, letters appeared on it, printed
clear, black, and easily visible from where I was
sitting, though I could not make out the words.
The Cheik got up, approached the paper, read the
words, and then asked one of the people attending
to close the shutters on all the windows. The room
became very dark, and the words, seemingly
separated from the paper, glowed in air like a
bright hologram.
The Cheik called Taj, and asked him to read the
words. I could not hear what they said to each
other, but they seemed to agree on something, as
they stood there, nodding their heads. Then Taj
came back to me. I asked him, What was that?
He stepped on my foot to quiet me. His large foots
imprint was painful, so I shut up. Everyone else
seemed to accept the phenomenon without trouble,
and gazed at the Cheik as he began to move in a
strange manner. He looked to the left, mumbling
something incoherent, then to the right, saying the
same incomprehensible things, repeating the
sequence twice. Then he lifted his hands as if in

prayer, in the manner shared by both Jews and


Muslims. Touching his chest and pushing his hands
in front of him, he said, Ahlan, ahalan, ahlan,
ahalan, bee salamah. The letters were still
glowing in front of him in the air, and he added,
Asma oo hoosmah ath sabha.
I turned and pinched Taj, whispering feverishly,
Explain!
Dont you know anything? said Taj. These are
the names of seven Afrit. They are going to open
the gate of the underworld for us.
But He stomped on my foot again to shut me
up, and it really hurt and I kept quiet.
The Cheik said, rather loudly: Bakhooor,
bakhooor! A man appeared out of nowhere and
brought an incense holder. The Cheik moved it
back and forth, the room filled with smoke, and
everyone started to chant and mumble very loudly.
I understood nothing at all of what they said. It
seemed they were speaking in tongues, and the
effect was frightening. They went on for a couple
of minutes, then stopped abruptly. At that instant,
the letters pulled together, became one shining ball

of light of intense silver color, and zoomed out of


the room into thin air.
One of the people opened the shutters and the late
afternoon light streamed in. The Cheik put his right
hand on his heart and said Thank you three times.
I was wondering who exactly he was thanking, and
who, originally, was he praying for, since he never
used the words God, Allah, or any other
recognizable deity name. I did not realize at the
time that the Ulema, even when they were Arabs,
where not Muslims, and had their own, very
different, world view.
The Master got up. Everyone rose with him, their
robes swishing and making a faint sound in the
quiet room. The Tuareg floated in the air. I looked
at him, doing my best to control my discomfort. His
upper body was solid, but the bottom half of the
robe was obviously empty as it swirled around
him, making the absence of his lower body
extremely and disturbingly clear. He seemed like
an apparition, a ghost.
Everyone came to the Master, bowed to him, and
then grabbed his hand with both of theirs, in a way

that was clearly ceremonial. The right hands


thumb was hitting the spot between the thumb and
first finger of the left hand, and then the left hand
covered the right hand. The Tuareg floated near the
master and did the same thing. Everyone looked at
each other and thanked each other a few times,
following their thanks with the words Rama
Ahaab. I did not know this word, and was not
aware that they were speaking Anakh, the language
that was shared by the Anunnaki and the Ulema.
And yet I sensed that there was something very
special about the way they spoke, as if by instinct.
I was staring at the people and trying to understand
their words until the Master tapped me on the
shoulder and told me to come out.
Taj left with me, and said, You talk too much. You
should be paying more attention, such an occasion
is not likely to happen again! I shrugged, but I had
to admit to myself that he was right, these events
were probably unique. To my surprise, I was
beginning to like the Sudanese, and no longer felt
threatened by his strange appearance and bizarre
behavior. As if reading my mind, he put his hand in

the inner pocket of his ill fitting and flashy jacket,


pulled out two lollipops, and handed me one.
Wont you tell me a bit about the Afrit? I asked,
licking my lollipop. I am not sure why we need to
call them. Why cant we just go into the
underground city? I dont quite understand anything
that is going on here.
In your home, in France, do you have a Jaras, a
bell, on your door? he asked.
Yes, of course, I said, surprised at the question.
Well, you see, the underground city does not have
a Jaras, and it is locked. If you want to come in,
someone must let you in. The Afrit can help you,
but you have to call them in a special way.
Otherwise, they dont know you want them to open
the door. How would they know? They are not too
clever.
Where is the door? I said.
He pointed to the ground. Under you, under the
house, there is a door. Right under the Cheiks
house. A door to the Aboo, the deep abyss. It is
also called Dahleeth, meaning an underground
labyrinth.

Are there other doors?


Very likely, but I only know this one.
One of the people came out of the house, motioned
to us to come in, and said, We are ready. In the
house, everyone was wearing a white robe, and to
my surprise, their heads were covered with the
type of head scarf Jews sometimes wore in the
synagogue. To confuse the issue even further, one
was holding a scroll that resembled a Torah. I felt
desperate. Were they going to delay our journey
again and start praying? I really wanted move on,
see the Afrit, have the adventure. I was tired of the
delays. Thankfully, one of them handed me a robe
and commanded me to go change my clothes,
which I did, but Taj did not change his attire. I
asked him why he was not required to do so, and
he explained that he was not one of the Al
Moomawariin, or the enlightened ones, so he was
not required to wear the special outfit. This did not
really clarify the matter, since I was not one of the
enlightened ones either, but I decided to let it pass.
Taj seemed to be right about the door being under
the Cheiks house, because we started to descend

the steps to the basement. The basement was long


and narrow, and had a very high ceiling, perhaps
the height of two stories. Everything, floor, walls,
ceiling, were made entirely of gray cement. It
smelled of dampness, and was very cold. We went
through a one room after another, all narrow and
long, eventually reaching a small room that had an
iron gate by its far wall. The Cheik opened the gate
with a large key, and behind it was a second door,
made of thick wood. A second key opened this one.
Suddenly a thought struck me. Why did he need a
key? Why couldnt a man who had such
supernatural powers simply command the doors to
open? Or pass through them like a ghost, for that
matter? I expressed my thought to Taj. It wont
work, said Taj. Yes, of course the Cheik could
pass through doors, but how would he take you
with him?
What do you mean? I asked, bewildered.
You are not enlightened as yet. You cannot use
supernatural means of transportation at this stage,
so if he wants you, or me, for that matter, to pass
through these doors, he must take you inside in a

normal way. If he tried, you will just bang against


the doors and hurt yourself, while he would be on
the other side. I began to see that Taj was not
stupid at all. Childish, and sometimes pretending to
be silly and play silly games, but deep down, he
was extremely knowledgeable.
We stood together in the small room, exactly like
all the other rooms in the basement. The Cheik
said, Let the boy be the last one. He needs
protection. Taj, come here. Taj joined him at the
front of the line, and we entered a long corridor.
As we were walking, the corridor began to shift its
shape. I felt seasick, nauseated, my balance was
lost. The floor, and walls, everything was moving,
rolling, undulating. I did not see clearly, and
wondered how long this torment would last, when
suddenly all movement stopped. I looked around
and nearly jumped with terror. The simple corridor
became a cave! A natural cave, not a man made
structure. Stone, dirt, and natural formations were
all around me. It smelled damp and filthy, water
were oozing from some of the walls, and the light
was dim. I did not like the place.

The Master told everyone except me to stand


in a crescent shaped row, and hold hands. He
ordered me to stand behind the crescent, and not to
touch anyone. I was hurt. I felt neglected, as if I
were not a part of the group, until one of the people
turned to me and said kindly, Dont be upset, my
boy. This is for your protection. So I just stood
there behind the people, feeling silly in my long
white robe, but not unhappy anymore.
At that moment, Taj made a sweeping motion with
his hands and body, and screamed a few words.
The horrible sound he emitted was not human. It
was very likely the loudest sound I had ever heard.
He continued to move his hands violently, grabbed
some dirt from the ground, and threw it up in the
air. He pronounced a word that to me sounded like
a name, and followed it by the word Eehdar!
three times. Then he said, Oodkhool, three times.
Immediately, a rubbery kind of form moved to the
left, changed to a paste-like substance, and
attached itself like glue to the wall. The sticky,
pale mess looked like ectoplasm. Taj repeated his
actions a few times, manifesting a new ectoplasmic

manifestation on the wall with each call. Then, he


looked at the Cheik and said, Tamam!
The Cheik and Taj were engaged in a conversation
in low voices. They seemed to be in agreement,
since the Cheik said, Yes, go ahead. Taj
advanced toward the ectoplasmic forms, put his
hand in his jackets pocket and took something out,
and gave some to each of them. At this moment, the
Cheik stepped forward, ready to take over, and
said Iibriiz! The forms burst into flame, which
burned the ectoplasm and produced a thick fog.
From the fog appeared human forms, but there
were oncly six of them. The Cheik said
Wawsabeh! The Master came forward, stood by
the Cheik, and the Cheik repeated the word,
adding, Anna amooree khum! and the seventh
creature came.
Later Taj told me that these Afrit were originally
created by the Cheik for a reason, as they usually
are, and in the normal state of events were
supposed to become the Cheiks loyal servants.
However, the Cheik made a mistake and did not
perform the exact requirements needed in the

procedure of the creation, and therefore he lost


control over the Afrit. The result was disturbing.
The seven Afrit developed independent and rather
evil habits, and did not quite obey the Cheik as
they should. For some reason, the only one who
could call them to appear was Taj. However, that
is all he could do. Since Taj was not an
Enlightened One, he could not control them once
they came, and to a certain extent was at their
mercy and had to have an Ulema present if he was
to avoid potential harm. As for another Ulema
controlling them instead of Taj and the Cheik, that
was not possible. The Ulema have four categories,
based on their form of existence. Some Ulema are
physical and live as humans, like the Master and
the Cheik. Some used to be physical, but were no
longer so. Some, like the Tuareg, straddled both
forms. Others have never occupied a human form.
All four versions of the Ulema can exercise
immense powers, no matter if they are physical or
non physical, but a physical Ulema can only
control non physical entities, such as these Afrit, if
he was their creator.

I shuddered as I watched the Afrit. At this


point of my studies, I had my share of supernatural
incidences, but I have never been so shaken before.
In the semi darkness of this miserable, damp place,
the Afrit were truly terrifying. Each had a more or
less human face, but in this almost normal face the
eyes were not at all normal. Instead, each Afrit had
two circular orbs, with white background and a
black pupil that stood out as if painted. The eyes
did not move. If the Afrit wanted to look to the
side, it had to move its whole head. The head was
not connected to the body. Instead, it floated in a
disconcerting, eerie fashion, just above the body.
When the Afrit manifest, their bodies often appear
first and for a few minutes appears headless, until
they choose to manifest the head. This fact,
coupled by their appalling ugliness, can frighten a
human being to the point of death. There had been
recorded incidents of people dying of heart attack
or stroke caused by such events. I kept myself as
calm as possible and continued to study the Afrit.
The heads were bad enough, but the bodies were
even worse. They were tinted a shadowy, ugly,

dark color. The torso resembled the shape of a bat.


Their arms were attached to the back of the body,
and the hands had extremely long fingers. Since the
Afrit dont eat or breathe, they dont need a
stomach and a diaphragm. Therefore, the body had
a sort of visible cavity in the front, where these
organs would have been. The legs were twisted,
like entangled wires, which must help the Afrit as
they jump. They rarely stay in one place for long,
and keep shaking and moving and twitching. They
looked back at us, their ugly faces twisted in a
devilish, vicious smile. They kept chattering
among themselves and pointing at us with their
long fingers. But Taj told me that despite their
apparent boldness, they were afraid of the
Enlightened Ones. Any Afrit can see the shining
auras of the Ulema, and for some reason they are
terrified of these auras.
The Cheik commanded the Afrit to open the door. I
did not understand the language he spoke, but I
figured it out because he used the word Babu,
which is so similar to the word Baab. Babu is
really a door, though, while baab is a gate, but the

words were close enough to make it clear to me


that they were going to open the door to the
underground world. I was speechless with
anticipation. Everyone stood still, looking at the
far wall of the cave, so I stared at it too, not
knowing what to expect.
The far wall of the cave suddenly collapsed, in
total silence. It felt like a silent movie, because
there was no dust and no sound of falling stones.
The stones tumbled down quietly, one by one,
disappearing altogether rather than forming a pile.
The wall was replaced by dark, hazy fog, that
allowed us a glimpse of some far away buildings.
Now, said the Cheik to Taj, Lets follow the
Afrit, but dont let them play tricks on you. Taj
nodded. We went through the fog, following
another corridor and crossing identical rooms that
seemed to follow each other in succession, all the
while seeing the far off buildings in the distance.
The Cheik started reciting something. The Afrit
were jumping up and down like carousel horses,
while pushing forward with great speed, and were
already a good distance away from us, going on

their own mysterious errands. Taj said to me, You


can now move to the front, its safe now, the Afrit
wont pay much attention to us anymore. I quickly
moved near the Master at the head of the line, and
no one took notice of what I was doing. We did not
move on yet. The Cheik asked Taj to show him a
piece of paper he was holding, probably a kind of
a map, and asked, Do you know which room we
need?
Yes, said Taj. I know exactly where it is, its
very near us. I will go in, and if I find something, I
will bring some pieces back to you so you can see
them, and then we can all go in and bring
everything.
Taj left for about five minutes, and returned with a
beautiful pearl necklace, a few diamonds, and
some Phoenician coins. He told the Cheik and the
Master, We can go in now, but remember, you
promised that all the gold belongs to Taj.
Of course, said the Cheik casually. But
remember, said the Master, We are not just going
into the treasure room. You will also take us to the
other room, as you promised. It was clear to me

that the Ulema were not in the least interested in


the treasure, but there was something else in this
underground cavern that meant much more to them
than any gold or diamonds. The Ulema do not need
gold. They can manufacture whatever wealth they
need, and they never manufacture or acquire more
than they need. Riches are of no interest to them at
all.
Certainly I will take you to the other room, said
Taj. I know exactly where it is. He seemed quite
pleased by the bargain.
We followed Taj into a small, closed room. It had
no windows but was brightly lit, allowing us to see
gold, gems, diamonds, and pearls stashed in boxes,
jars, or simply thrown on the floor in heaps.
However, I was not very interested in gold either.
What I wondered about was the source of the
mysterious illumination. No windows, no lamps,
no candles, but bright light in every corner of the
room. What could cause this? Suddenly I realized
it had to be the same type of light that was
discovered in the Pharaonic tombs and catacombs
of ancient Egypt. Originally, the archaeologists

who went there were baffled by the light in the


Egyptian tunnels, until they discovered the
contraption that the ancient Egyptians had created.
They found conical objects that functioned like
modern batteries, producing light that was so much
like normal electrical light that there was hardly a
difference. The batteries had to be placed in a
certain way against each other, or they would not
light, and worse, could burn the user since they
packed a lot of energy in their structure. I
suspected this had to be the same type of
illumination.
Taj pointed the door that would take us to the room
the Master wished to visit. The Master asked him,
Do you want to come with us?
I will follow you as soon as I am finished
here, said Taj, grinning. He pulled some linen
bags from under his jacket, and busily started
filling them with the treasure. The Master smiled
indulgently at him, as if Taj was a child playing
with some toys that meant little to adults but
pleased the child a great deal. He said to the rest
of us, Well then, lets go to the next room. We

opened the door. Inside it was pitch black, but the


Master stepped in without the slightest hesitation,
and we followed. I envied his confidence. As far
as I was concerned, how did we know an angry
Afrit was not waiting for us? But since no one else
showed any fear, I went with them. We could see
nothing, but the Master kept talking to us and so we
were able to follow him. All of sudden, bright light
filled the room. I blinked a few times, and then
saw the Master standing by one of the walls,
holding two conical, golden objects in each hand,
positioned against each other. I was right, here
were the ancient batteries.
The room was empty of furniture other than a
beautiful wooden table, carved into arabesques,
much like Moroccan furniture. The Master placed
the batteries carefully on the table, making sure the
alignment allowed them to continue to produce
light. I looked around. Other than the batteries and
the table, the only object in the room was a large
Phoenician urn, standing in one of the corners.
We are going to leave you here for a short while,
said the Master to the group. The Cheik and I are

going to get the materials we need for our project.


Well be right back, added the Cheik with
what seemed to me rather misguided optimism.
There were Djinn and Afrit here! Wasnt anyone
concerned about these devils? The Master and the
Cheik walked to the end of the room, very slowly,
with measured, matching steps, as if
choreographed. Then they reached the far wall, and
literally went through the wall to the other side. I
was not exactly shocked, since I have seen the
Master go through walls before. It is an interesting
phenomenon, but not as mysterious as one might
think. To put it simply, the Ulema know how to
control molecules; the Master had explained it to
me thoroughly. Everyone knows that there is plenty
of empty space between the molecules of any
matter, and the Ulema make use of that fact with a
specialized procedure. As the person who wishes
to cross approaches the wall, the wall gradually
becomes soft, as if its molecules fragment
themselves, and the human body simultaneously
does the same. The spaces between the molecules
of both grow and readjust. The person and the wall

keep their shapes for an instant, then their


molecules mingle and allow the passage. At that
moment, the person passes to the other side, the
molecules separate, and both wall and person
become solid and normal again.
The rest of us waited for about half an hour. I was
beginning to worry. The Cheik said they would be
right back! Something must have prevented them
from doing so. Perhaps the Afrit, who have by now
completely disappeared, took them away,
kidnapped them, led them somewhere horrible? I
asked some of the other people if they knew what
was going on, but they had no idea where the Cheik
and the Master went. However, they did not seem
worried, making it clear to me that they trusted
these two to know what to do. Dont worry, one
of them said to me. They can handle a lot worse
than those stupid Afrit.
I dont wish to contradict, Sir, I said, but
these Afrit seem pretty dangerous to me. The way
they were pointing and smiling The others
laughed. I have seen the Cheik and the Master
handle much worse entities, said the man who

spoke to me, very kindly. Remember, the Afrit are


cowards. They are mortally afraid of the auras of
the Ulema.
But I understand the Cheik needs some help
because of the way he handled their creation, I
said.
Yes, this is true, said the man. These Afrit
did turn out a bit wild. But with the Master there,
they will never dare to harm them. I had to be
content with that. So I went in search of Taj, to see
how he was doing with the treasure, perhaps help
him finish filling his bags. I called him and was
about to reenter the room, but I heard him scream,
Dont come here! and he tumbled out of the
room, bleeding, and slammed the door behind him.
The Afrit beat me, he gasped. Beat me very
badly.
But Taj, you could handle those seven Afrit
so well! What happened to give them power over
you?
Seven? Are you joking? There is a colony
here, something like forty of fifty Afrit, and they all
rushed at me and would not let me take the gold.

Is it their gold? I asked. What do they


want it for, anyway? They dont need money.
No, its not their gold. It used to belong to
the Phoenicians, and now it belongs to no one in
particular. But the Afrit like to play with it. They
like shining things.
But you are holding one bag, I see.
Yes, I managed to save one bag. They got
all the others, those slimy devils. He smiled,
regaining his composure. Never mind, though.
After all, I will be a very wealthy man even with
just one bag. This treasure is amazing Anyway,
we must secure the door. Hold the bag for a
minute. He pushed the bag in my hands, turned,
and repeated the same words he used when he
originally called the Afrit, and gestured in the same
way. While he was doing that, I heard shrieks and
screams, which he later explained was the way the
Afrit spoke as they were chased away. That is
that, he said, surveying the door with satisfaction.
They wont bother us again. He took the bag and
smiled at me through the caked blood and filth on
his face. A successful treasure hunt, ah, Germain?

And some day Ill come back for more.


Back in the other room, I saw, to my considerable
relief, that the Cheik and the Master have returned.
The Cheik was holding a stack of forty or fifty
sheets made of shiny plastic, or plasma, or glass,
and the Master had the same size stack, but of a
different type of material, brownish yellow like
corn.
What is that? I asked Taj.
I have no idea, said Taj. They only told me
which room I was supposed to take them to, but
they did not tell me what project they were
engaged in. I have a hunch it is something terribly
important. I thought so too, since the Cheik and
the Master seemed to be extremely solemn, and
everyone else was completely silent. There was a
strong feeling of expectation in the room. They
each put his stack on the table, the Cheik on the
right, the Master on the left, leaving a space
between the stacks, and I noticed that the space
matched the size of the stacks. The Master brought
the urn from the corner to the table, and made a
motion of pouring something out of the urn into the

space between the stacks. I saw nothing coming out


of the jar, but I figured that it might be an invisible
substance. This went on for about twenty seconds,
then the Master returned the urn to the corner. The
Cheik took one sheet from his stack, and put it in
the space between the stacks. The Master then took
a sheet from his own stack, put it on the Cheiks
sheet, and waited a couple of seconds. Then the
Master flipped his sheet back side up, and to my
absolute amazement, there was print on the sheet,
strong and black, consisting of strange symbols and
letters I did not recognize. Piling the sheets on top
of each other, they did the same to all of them.
Surprisingly, the stack, when finished, was reduced
in size to about a half of the original sheets, even
though I could not see it reducing itself while it
was worked on. I think that the plasma sheets were
absorbed into the corn-like paper as the print was
produced, but I am not sure. The Cheik pulled out a
silk scarf from his robe, put the stack on the scarf,
rolled it, lifted the ends of the scarf and tied them
together, all in a ritualistic way. Then he said, Al
Hamdu twice.

They turned to go, and we left the room. The


Master, throughout the entire time, paid hardly any
attention to me, which bothered me a little. I felt
neglected, even abandoned. He must have noticed
my unhappy face, because he put his hand on my
shoulder, took me back into the room, and said,
Look! To my amazement, the room was entirely
empty. The table and the urn had disappeared. I
was confused and uncomfortable. I could not
understand why all that was necessary. Why Afrit?
Why those doors? Where did the table go? What
was this document and why was it worth all this
effort? He laughed at my questions and said, Look
at the wall. The light was dimming as we spoke,
and finally disappeared. It seemed this adventure
was over, and I said, rebelliously, that I wish
things were made clear to me, because otherwise, I
have learned nothing.
I will explain everything later, Germain. I
promise
But what about the city you said we are about to
see? The city where the Founding Fathers of the
Ulema used to come to? The city from before the

Deluge?
So you want to see more? This was not enough?
Yes, I said. Basically, all I saw was you and the
Cheik going through a wall and Taj fighting with
the Afrit, which I admit were scary but were not
too significant, I believe. I did not see anything
remotely connected to the ancient city.
Well, he said, in this case, turn, and walk with
me. You are already walking in this city.
I looked around, and saw nothing, but he said,
Keep walking, it will come.
I should have trusted him more fully. After all,
when did he ever disappoint me? I felt remorseful
as the miracle began to enfold in front of my eyes,
but thankfully, he did not hold my short term
rebellion against me, and went on cheerfully
enough. Slowly, the ancient city started to appear
like a Polaroid picture in front of me. The colors
of the city were such as I have never seen before,
glowing colors of incredible beauty. The Master
explained that this was because the city was
located in a space that had the same temperature
everywhere, and no pressure on any object. Unlike

earth.
What do you mean, Master, when you say unlike
earth like that? Are we not on earth?
No, we have left earth when the Afrit opened the
door and made the cave wall collapse. We are now
in another dimension, said the Master.
Everything looks a little different here. The city
became clearer, and I thought it looked like a
holographic projection, either from the past, or
from the future. The buildings, though beautiful,
had a sense of alien, remote places. We were now
walking in a well-illuminated street, the windows
of the buildings shining with lights as well. The air
was soft and fragrant.
I see buildings and streets, I said. But where
are the people?
They are here, but they are invisible to you. Your
eyes are not constructed to see them, not yet, he
said. Well, it is time to leave. Lets go up these
stairs. We started climbing a very high, stone
stairway that led from the street into a destination
that was not quite visible.
I was surprised that we were not retracing out

steps into the Cheiks house, but the Master said


there was no need for that, and that exits were
available in various locations, and not as difficult
to achieve as entrances. So we climbed the stairs,
and when we reached the top, I saw a huge gray
wall on my left, and noticed that the pavement
turned into sand. The huge gray wall was the side
of the Anunnaki stone. I understood that we exited
from a hole under the big stone, were out of the
strange dimension, and back on earth.
So that is what Taj meant when he said he would
make the stone fly? I said.
Yes, a rather poetic way of describing our trip,
said the Master.
Master, I am not wearing the white robe! I am
wearing the normal clothes I left at the Cheiks
house.
Indeed, and so is everyone else, he said,
pointing to the rest of the company, who were
already standing near the giant stone, and wearing
normal clothes.
So what did we come here for? Surely not just to
give Taj his treasure?

We came for the book, Germain. Everything we


did was much worth it, even the encounter with the
unpleasant and stupid Afrit. We have recently
heard that the book was here, in this dimension,
after having searched for it unsuccessfully for
generations. And now we have recovered a copy
of the most important book in the world.
The strange book you printed from the stacks?
What is it?
It is one of the very few copies in existence of
what is probably the oldest book to have ever been
written. A book the Anunnaki had valued very
much. It is called The Book of Rama Dosh.
I didnt know why, but a shiver went through my
spine when I heard the name of the Ancient book;
the sound of the name triggered a reaction in my
mind. For a second I had a feeling of tottering on
the brink of a dark, warm abyss that contained
something older than the universe, and glowed
with endless stars. It passed quickly, and the
Master continued.
In the future, you will have the privilege of
studying it. It contains the knowledge that may,

some day, save humanity from its own folly. At


least I hope so with all my heart. And now, back to
Damascus! Our friendly driver is waiting for us in
the car.

*** *** ***

Chapter Four:
Rabbi Mordechai A Reunion with
the Kabbalist, Alchemist, Ulema
Master
Political unrest in the Middle East
We are moving back to Paris
Meeting Rabbi Mordechai
A magical mezuzah
Experiments in Alchemy and transmutation
The amazing Mr. Markowitch
How to build a house overnight
Dealing with Ghooliim
Rabbi Mordechai explains what the future
will bring
A futuristic machine and pure gold.

Due to political unrest in the Middle East, the


climate was no longer beneficial for business.

Mamas advisors suggested, therefore, that she


should move back to Paris. It seemed that the
government in France no longer pursued the post
war behavior that originally pushed Mama into the
Middle East, so there was no reason for her to stay
in there. Sylvie and I were overjoyed with the
decision.
Of course, it would be hard to part with the old
friends and the happy life in Damascus, but for me
it presented a wonderful opportunity to fulfill my
dream of going to the university in Paris. As for
Sylvie, at age fifteen, the most important issues in
the world were fashion, beauty, and romance, so
she secretly envisioned herself ordering an
unlimited number of dresses in the best maisons de
couture, meeting elegant young Parisian gentlemen
who would be vastly impressed with such a welltraveled, cosmopolitan young woman, and drinking
coffee with equally elegant new girlfriends, who
shared her interests, in charming little cafs on the
Champs Elises. The fact that it may be a little
difficult for me to get into the university, after
living in the Middle East for so long, never

crossed my mind, and Sylvie was equally


oblivious to the fact that Mama would not
necessarily encourage her aspirations, but that did
not matter and we could not wait.
So letters went sent to the nuns, who ran the
orphanage and pediatric hospital in our home
during our long absence, and the tedious process of
getting me into the University was also started.
After much thought, consultations with Mama, and
many letters back and forth to the Master, I settled
on pursuing a course of studies in philosophy and
literature. I looked forward to it and knew I would
enjoy my studies, but I was also secretly pleased
with the fact that I would have to wait a few
months for the beginning of the academic year,
since I knew that the studies would be extremely
rigorous, as is the way in all French universities.
Sylvie was promised a few months off as well,
since she was going to join her school at the
beginning of the year rather than start in the middle,
which is not encouraged in France. She promised
to help Mama settle in the house, and since she
was a smart, practical girl despite her romantic

dreams, Mama knew she could rely on her.


As we arrived in Paris, meeting with old friends
was truly joyful, and to add to our comfort,
everything went very smoothly. Mama arranged for
the nuns to transfer the hospital and orphanage to
the convent, giving them generous donations in the
process, and they were extremely grateful. They
quickly moved out of our home, and the
renovations that were needed were not too difficult
because the nuns typically maintained perfect
cleanliness and order, and no damage was done to
our home by the children under their care. After
they transferred the childrens furniture and
equipment back to the convent, we had little to do
other than bring our good furniture, pictures, etc.
out of storage and get the house in order.
After a few months, I was accepted to the
university without any trouble, and started my
studies. Mama was busy with our vineyards in
Aix-en-Provence and the rest of the business, all of
which was doing very well, and met no
interference from the government.
For two years, I concentrated on normal students

activities. Even though I corresponded with the


Master on a regular basis, and got a letter from him
at least once a month, he had no assignments for
me, telling me that for the moment I was too busy
with the university to be able to do both, but I
should not worry, since I will be back to it. I
continued to practice the self defense and various
other Wushu exercises, but nothing new came my
way, until a letter arrived from the Master.
My dear Germain, I am not sure if your mother
has told you, but you are going to have a very
pleasant surprise. In two weeks, Rabbi Mordechai,
an old friend of your family, who had always been
a very deer friend of mine as well, is coming to
Paris. He will have interesting things to tell you
and show you. Do you at all remember him? The
last time you saw him you were a very young child,
but personally I think it is very difficult to forget
Rabbi Mordechai
Indeed. No one who had met Rabbi Mordechai
even once could forget him, anymore that you
could forget an earthquake or a typhoon. His
energy, love of life, and powerful personality

would leave strong impression immediately on


anyone who had the pleasure of meeting him. I
remembered him very well, a large man with a
long white beard, with a booming voice and a
hearty laugh, always cheerful, always pleasant. I
knew I would recognize him right away, and I
looked forward to it. I went to Mama to inquire
and she said, Have I forgotten to tell you? How
could I? I must really be too busy if I could do that.
It will be such fun to see Rabbi Mordechai again.
Two weeks later, around seven oclock at night, I
came home from school. As soon as I opened the
door, I heard a laugh that filled the entire house,
and I knew Rabbi Mordechai came. The house felt
differently, as if the quiet atmosphere was charged
by some extra energy that was not there before. I
heard him calling me from the other room, booming
at me as soon as I closed the door, though how he
knew it was me I could never understand. Finally
you are here! I could not wait to see you! And a
great big bear of a man rushed out of the living
room and hugged me with incredible strength. He
let me go, held me at arms length, and looked at

me with his intense blue green eyes, so bright that


some people had difficultly looking at them and
would lower their own eyes when he looked at
them. He did not change at all, the white beard,
long and thick, almost reached his belt, and he still
wore the dark suit that was his signature. I
remember him telling me that people who saw him
from the back, wearing this black coat, thought he
was a priest, but as soon as he turned, they would
realize he must be a rabbi, but then again, not
quite to me he looked like the personification of
a Russian peasant, but highly intellectual. Rabbi
Mordechai was not easy to categorize.
You look well, my boy he said, and I felt that his
approval was important, and was very happy to
hear it. You look wonderful too, Rabbi, I said. I
am so happy to see you again.
Dont think that just because I did not see you for
a few years, I did not know what you were doing,
said Rabbi Mordechai. Our friend, Master Li,
kept me abreast of your advancement. He is very
pleased with it. A sudden suspicion occurred to
me that their connections with each other, and also

with me and my mother, were not accidental, but I


did not know at that time how to connect the dots,
so I let it pass.
I see you are still wearing your ring, Rabbi, I
said, laughing. I used to be fascinated with his ring.
It was a heavy ring with a green topaz, which
could be opened to reveal a secret compartment.
Inside, he kept a dry bean, on which he wrote, in
miniature, the entire Torah. Is the bean still
there? I continued. Of course, said Rabbi
Mordechai. I need the Torah with me all the
time.
And where have you been all these years?
Mostly in Estonia and Lithuania, he said. So
much help is needed under the Soviets such poor
people, starving, homeless. I built towns for them.
You built towns? I asked, incredulously. How
could one man build towns?
Oh yes, Ill tell you about it later, he said
casually. Its a long story, and we should not keep
your mother waiting.
We returned to the living room, where Mama was
pouring out some drinks for us to have before we

went in for dinner. Now, my dear Madame


Lumire, dont you think you need a mezuzah?
Where is your mezuzah? I did not see one when I
came in.
Please, Rabbi, with all due respect, I dont need
any religious objects in this house, said Mama,
sighing, and handed him his drink. They never did
me much good, to say the least.
Ah, you will think differently about the kind of
mezuzah I am talking about and he pulled out of
his pocket a mezuzah and put it on the table. It was
covered by blue and white diamonds of the first
quality. Mama picked it up and looked at it,
amazed.
Well! she said, Perhaps I should change my
mind Shall I put it in my bedroom? It wont be
safe to keep a thing like that on the front door.
You cant even carry it to your bedroom, Madame
Lumire, he said, his blue green eyes twinkling
with amusement. Its much too heavy. I saw
Mama looking at the mezuzah that she was still
holding in total amazement. It seemed to be pushing
her hand down, getting heavier and heavier. She

placed it on the table, unable to hold it any longer.


I tried to pick it up, and Rabbi Mordechai said,
Didnt you learn anything in Damascus? Dont
you remember what happened when you tried to
grab such a thing?
I suddenly remembered the coffee cup I drank from
when I visited the Tuareg in the suk in Damascus,
as a child. The mezuzah had to be the same type of
enchanted object, with a mind of its own.
Mordechai looked at the mezuzah, and just like the
cup, it jumped into my lap. I did not touch it, and
did not quite know what to do. Whats more, I was
a little uncomfortable about his knowledge
regarding my visit to the Tuareg. How did he
know? I looked at him with some suspicion and he
burst out laughing, and gently slapped my face. I
know a lot of things, he said. I told you, I have
watched over your advancement for years.
Mama ignored this exchange and said, Why dont
you take care of my arthritis instead of playing
such tricks, if you are so powerful? I could not
hold on to it, it was too heavy for my arms.
This has nothing to do with arthritis, it really is

just a trick of sorts. You can put it back on the


table, Germain, it wont bite. I did and he put it
back in his pocket, and we went to dinner.
After dinner, Mama, who was extremely tired after
a long day at work, excused herself and retired to
her own room. Rabbi Mordechai and I went to the
library. Now, he said, lets go back to the issue
of the mezuzah, shall we? Look. He took it out of
his pocket and gave it to me. It was definitely the
same mezuzah, but not a single diamond remained
on it, and it seemed to be made of copper. You
see, using these tricks was the way I could help
those poor people in Estonia and Lithuania. I can
change metals, and other substances, into gold,
diamonds, or other precious stones, as needed.
So you put the diamonds in for a limited period of
time?
Not exactly. I did not really have to put them in.
When performing this trick, the person involved
usually sees the physical object or property he or
she lost and could not regain. Your mother lost her
diamonds in the war, and her vision of the
diamonds affected the mezuzah. You never lost

anything of a material nature, so now, while not


influenced by her vision, you are seeing plain
metal. Its much like a crystal ball. People see
different things when they look into the same
crystal ball, since it reflects their minds. If you
were ill, you would see something related to
illness and recovery. Had your mothers arthritis
been really bad, she would have seen something
related to it, rather than the diamonds. Fortunately,
her arthritis is very mild. I needed to build houses
for the people in Estonia and Lithuania. Most of the
people from whom I needed to buy materials or get
licenses, lost money in the past. So if I put anything
on the table in front of them, lets say some leaves,
or paper, they saw money, took it, and let me have
anything I needed.
And would the money disappear?
Sometimes, but not in a way that could
incriminate me. Also, if they were good people,
they could keep it.
I was silent. Something strange was
happening here, I thought. Why is he telling me all
these things? There had to be some plan, some

pattern, to his sudden appearance


I am going to give you this mezuzah, he said.
Carry it with you. When you are in trouble, real
trouble, look at it, and you may be able to see the
solution to your problem. It has a great secret,
look. He held it in his hand, and with the other
hand, opened an invisible compartment, then
closed it. Now, he said, You try to open it. I
took the mezuzah and there was simply no
compartment to be found. The mezuzah was
seamless. I looked at him with amazement.
The compartment will only open three times in
your lifetime. It will grant you three wishes. One of
them, the last one, will be the ultimate request,
relating to life and death. Before that, one wish
will be used for yourself, the other for someone
else. If you ask for help and the compartment
opens, this is the sign that the wish will be granted.
Now take it and put it in your pocket.
Rabbi Mordechai, I said, putting the mezuzah in
my pocket, You have great powers, dont you?
I plan to teach you a great deal of these powers,
he said without elaborating. Now, off to sleep! I

am an old man and it is three oclock in the


morning!
I could not sleep, this was really exciting. Why
was Rabbi Mordechai planning to teach me? Was
this the plan? What about the Master? There were
so many questions. But before trying to resolve
anything else, I decided I had to find out what this
mysterious mezuzah was made of.
I had a friend in the Institut Pasteur, a scientist,
who in turn had a friend who worked in a military
lab. Next morning, my friend and I went to the lab,
and let the military man look at it. He took
preliminary measurements, so as to coordinate
weight to size, and then put the mezuzah on a scale,
matching it to a light weight that should have
worked against a small copper object. But it did
not work. To our surprise, the mezuzahs side of
the scales sank down immediately as if it were
much heavier than the weight. The military man
fixed the scales and tried again, with the same
results. He looked up. This object is registering
20 kilograms, he said. But it cannot be. A small
object made of copper could not weigh that much

under any circumstances. I dont know how to


proceed. My friend from the Institut Pasteur
picked it up, and it was extremely light again.
This is bizarre, said my friend. No point in
going on, it wont work. Lets go home.
I took the mezuzah home. Rabbi Mordechai was
there, and somehow he knew where I was. I cant
imagine how he knew, since I told no one at home
about my plans, but eventually I got used to his
ability to find out where I went. He looked sad.
That was not good, son. You could have asked me
any questions you wanted about the mezuzah, but
instead you went to the military. That is not good.
he seemed upset about it and I felt like a real fool
and apologized. Well, he said, never mind. Put
on your hat and coat. I have got something to show
you. We are going to visit an old friend of mine, I
often stay with him when I am in Paris.
We went to a small house in a quiet side street near
Avenue Victor Hugo, and a pleasant little man
opened the door and greeted us warmly. Rabbi
Mordechai introduced him as Mr. Markowitch. He
took us into a modest living room, and opened a

bottle of Calvados. We sat comfortably, sipping


our drinks, and Rabbi Mordechai said, Son, not
even the biggest scientist in France knows as much
as this gentleman who is right here with us. Mr.
Markowitch smiled in a deprecating way, and said,
No, no. I am nothing special
Rabbi Mordechai waved his hand,
dismissing Mr. Markowitchs modesty. I say, my
friend, would you mind showing your laboratory to
Germain?
Not at all, said Mr. Markowitch. I will be
delighted to show it to him. We went into the
basement, which was large and comprised of
several rooms. Mr. Markowitch opened a door,
and stood aside to let up pass. What I saw there
was in such complete contradiction to the simple
living room that I gasped. The room was a
combination of a movie set and a medieval
laboratory, large, messy, dusty, and full of tubes,
flasks, bottles, boiling water, and steam. I smelled
something boiling, burning metals, and other
strange odors. What in the world was this?
Suddenly I had a hunch. Are you an alchemist? I

asked, bewildered.
Not exactly, said Mr. Markowitch. I am only a
transmutist, though I do my best to work for the
benefit of humanity. Rabbi Mordechai is an
alchemist, though. The greatest alchemist I have
ever known. That was something to digest. I knew
Rabbi Mordechai was many things, but an
alchemist was not something I expected.
There is a difference? Dont both professionals
try to transmute metals? I asked.
Yes and no. The alchemists are of a higher level.
They can transmute metals into pure gold, and also
can produce the Elixir of Life. The transmutists can
change substances into any metal other than gold,
and we cannot manufacture the Elixir of Life.
I see, I said, not sure I understood the
implications.
Look at this, said Mr. Markowitch. He opened a
drawer of a big table and took out a chunk of raw
gold. He looked at it affectionately. This is Rabbi
Mordechais first gift to me, he said. The first of
many. I would not sell this one for anything he
did not even have a bank account at the time,

would you believe it? And he produced this


beautiful gold for me. He never thinks about
himself.
So what do you do, Mr. Markowitch? I asked,
curious.
I work for a French-Swiss pharmaceutical
company as a chemist. That is my regular job. But I
am also trying to work for myself, by creating a
formula for a wonderful perfume. Rabbi
Mordechai helped me all along, and if everything
turns out well I will be able to make a lot of
money. That would be so nice. Anyway, let Rabbi
Mordechai show you his own workshop, which he
uses whenever he comes to Paris.
He went upstairs, and we entered Rabbi
Mordechais room, which stood in complete
contrast to his friends medieval lair. No tubes, no
containers of any sort, nothing was boiling or
steaming in this room. On the left side he had a
large, old fashioned wooden table. Next to it stood
a machine with a glass top, the likes of which I
have never seen. A bed stood under an arch
window. Next to it was placed a large sofa. On the

right side stood two large bookcases, and between


them, a metal armoire, entirely modern, unlike the
wooden country table. I commented on the lovely
Bohemian crystal chandelier, and Rabbi
Mordechai told me he got it in Yugoslavia.
Shall we have some coffee? asked Rabbi
Mordechai. He went to a kitchenette-like corner,
fitted with a few shelves and a sink, and started
preparing strong Turkish coffee.
Settling comfortably in his chair and sipping his
coffee, Rabbi Mordechai said, And now, I
promised to tell you the story of the houses I built.
Do you want to hear it?
Oh, yes, I do, I said. I am not sure what you
mean by building houses. I had no idea you worked
in this line.
Well, I built houses, but I never laid my hands on
a stone or a brick, he said, his bright eyes
twinkling with amusement.
So you supervised their construction? Like an
architect?
Well, maybe it could be described this way
You will be the judge. You see, the people I

wanted to help were poor peasants. They had no


money at all, they ate meat once a year, maybe, and
some of them lived in groups of eight to ten in one
small shack. I decided I had to build them more
houses, give them decent living conditions.
Luckily, there was a piece of land in the vicinity
that did not belong to anyone. I went to look at it,
make sure there was water around so we could dig
a good well. I found plenty of water, decided it
was the right place, and then, boom! Overnight, I
built them ten houses. Come to think of it, I had
some preliminary preparations to do, so it really
was not exactly overnight, but more like twentyfour hours.
But it takes more than twenty-four hours to build
even a single room, let alone ten houses! Did you
have hundreds of people to help you?
The work was done by four individuals and one
enormous blanket, said Rabbi Mordechai.
Getting them was what I referred to as
preliminary preparations.
Did you say blanket, Rabbi Mordechai, or did I
misunderstand you? What does a blanket have to

do with building houses?


No, you heard me right. The four individuals did
not wish to be observed as they were building the
houses.
I sat there, watching him a bit suspiciously. Was he
trying to confuse me, see how I would react to this
fairytale? Or perhaps it was some sort of a test? Or
maybe I was just so stupid that I did not
understand? Rabbi Mordechai looked at me and
said, I can see that you feel that four are not
enough to build ten houses overnight, right?
No way, I said.
For a really important good cause, Germain, I can
use one individual to build something bigger than
the Eiffel Tower, and in seconds.
Rabbi Mordechai was never drunk. My mother
told me that he was a real Russian bear and
could polish a whole bottle without any effects. So
obviously he could not be drunk now, when all I
saw him take was Turkish coffee. But for a few
moments I seriously suspected that he was. Nor
was he crazy. So what nonsense was he telling me?
And then I suddenly remembered something that

Mr. Markowitch said. Rabbi Mordechai, he said,


was an alchemist. It had little to do with building
houses, but still, as an alchemist, he had powers.
And then something else connected to it in my
mind. He never said his helpers were four people.
He said they were four individuals. Could these
individuals be like the Afrit I saw in Baalbeck?
The thought was so sudden, so disturbing, that I
was startled and looked at him with apprehension,
and I think he read my mind because he said, No,
they are not what you think. Not like those you saw
in Baalbeck, anyway. There are other sorts, you
know.
I had no idea that you knew about my meeting
with the Afrit, I said. How did you know I was
thinking about them, anyway? Do you read my
mind?
No, no. I dont read your mind, but what you
thought was very clear and showed on your face.
The Master told me all about your education,
remember? And I know that the first meeting with
the Afrit would make a strong impression on
anyone. Anyway, my individuals were much better

than the Afrit you met. All Afrit are basically


stupid, but mine, at least, listened and obeyed.
Are they spirits, are they humans, part human?
What are they? I asked.
Mine are called Ghooliim.
This strange name sounds somewhat familiar, I
said, but I cant quite place it.
Yes, you are right, and this is a very good
observation! I am pleased to see that you can make
good connections in your mind. Indeed, the
Ghooliim are part animal, part human, part Golem,
part Ghoul. A hybrid race. They are made of clay,
or earth materials, much like you and me, but they
have certain physical differences from both humans
and animals. For example, they are born full adult.
They are sensitive to light, by the way, so they
work only by night, but they are nevertheless great
engineers.
Where do you find them? I asked.
I make them, said Rabbi Mordechai.
You make them? Really? So they are like
machines? Robots?
They look exactly like you and me, they have

eyes, hands, feet, etc. They are not at all like


machines or robots. You will not think them
anything but human if you saw them.
I leaned forward in my chair, shaken by what I was
beginning to understand. Can he do the impossible,
can he be playing God? So you actually create
living, breathing, thinking creatures? The Afrit I
met where merely conjured spirits, but you are
talking about something else, I think. A different
level of beings.
When the Ulema, and some Kabbalists, reach the
holy level of Kadash Daraja, they can create life.
Real life. The creatures would function much like
human beings, but they have three deep
fundamental differences. They dont have a soul,
they dont have a physical heart that functions like
a blood pump, and they dont have a wired brain.
Also, their essence comes from another dimension,
to which they return after their task is done. They
are created for that task, and that is their only
purpose. The creator tells them what to do, and
they do it right away. In my case, I have created
these four Ghooliim to build the houses, and they

did it very nicely, overnight.


Can you tell me how you create them?
I create each of the Ghooliim separately. For
each, I bring with me seven pieces of papers on
which I write certain codes, and I have to have my
cane with me. Then I take soil, earth, or clay, and
pour water on it to make it pliable. Once its the
right consistency, I mold it into a ball. I turn off
most of the lights, leaving a very low illumination,
maybe one candle or a small lamp, and pull back
about four to five feet. I then read a certain text that
would encourage the ball to take the next step,
which is to shape itself into an oblong of about
four feet, and be ready to follow my special
design. At that point I take my cane, walk to the
other side of the oblong, dip the cane into the
oblong, and stretch it. I command the oblong to
duplicate a human form, and it becomes a statue,
lifeless, but similar in every way to the human
form. I take the seven pieces of paper, and put two
in the eyes, two in the ears, one in the mouth, and
one on the breast, over the heart. I roll the seventh
piece as if it were a homemade cigarette, go to the

other side of the statue, and throw the rolled paper


at it. It always lands either in the nose or between
the feet, and either position is correct. The statue
starts to move and attempts to stand up. At this time
I turn around and leave the room for a few minutes,
so as not to look at the statue as it comes to life.
Seeing the actual transformation is forbidden by
the Code of the Ulema, as stated in the Book of
Rama Dosh. I stand behind the door of the room,
and wait until I hear the creature make a sound,
which tells me that the procedure is complete. I go
back into the room, welcome the creature, give it
clothes to wear, and pull out all the papers, to keep
safely until such time as they are needed to
disassemble the creature and send its essence back
to its original dimension.
And you do that after the task is done.
Right, since the Ghooliim are created to perform
a single task. When the task is accomplished, I ask
the Ghooliim to lie on the floor, next to each other,
return the pieces of paper with the codes to the
correct places, and pour water over the bodies of
the Ghooliim. The bodies disappear, leaving earth

on the floor, and the essence goes back to where it


came from.
Do they always go away peacefully? I asked.
No, sometimes they develop a personality, if the
task is a bit longer, and they have the delusion of
being human and want to stay in our dimension. Of
course it would be cruel and inhuman to let them
stay, not to mention dangerous, but they do become
tricky. So the Ulema or Kabbalist must be even
trickier, and hypnotize the creature into deep sleep.
We then put the papers where they belong and set
the paper on fire, and the body start smouldering.
At that time, we pour the water over the Ghooliim
and they disappear.
Fascinating, I said. I would love to witness the
procedure, though I admit some of it would be
terrifying. Thinking of the creature stumbling to its
feet, trying to get up, in a dark room still, I wish
I could witness that.
You will do better than just witnessing. At
the right time I will teach you the whole process,
including the codes and the text that needs to be
said, promised Rabbi Mordechai.

I will know how to create life? Really? I


said incredulously.
Why not? Once initiated, you will advance.
I tell you, think big! Expect everything! Grow! That
is what I hope you will do. Anyway, the houses
were built very nicely by these obliging
Ghooliim.
And then?
The next morning, very early, I went to inspect the
houses, and removed the great blanket that covered
the area.
What is this blanket? I asked. We are not talking
about a real blanket, right?
No, it is a large plasmic sheet that can create a
shield of invisibility over the entire area. We just
refer to it as a blanket because its a short and
easy name. Anyway, someone saw the houses and
informed the police, and soon enough I saw them
advancing on me. Luckily, the captain was an old
friend, Sergei, and he had two policemen with him.
What is this? he asked me, surprised. He
knew the area well and these houses did not exist
the day before.

These are houses, I said.


Well, I see that, but how come? How did you
occupy the land, how did you build, and what
about license? Surely you dont have one? And
who did you build it for? You know very well that
you will have to abandon this property right away,
you have no right to it, said Sergei.
Sergei, my friend, you are asking too many
questions I said. when your wife was dying,
and the doctors gave up on her, do you remember
who saved her life?
Why, it was you, Rabbi Mordechai, said Sergei.
Do you think I would ever forget that? Of my
wife, for that matter? She never stops praising your
name.
And did you ask any questions then? No, you were
too happy to see her well. And anyway, if you had
asked, I would not know how to explain it to you.
You just touched her, and she stood up, said
Sergei. It looked like a miracle, so I did not want
to interfere
That rang a bell. I remembered something. Wait! I
said to Rabbi Mordechai, interrupting his

narrative. That is exactly what the Master did for


the sick nun, Sister Marie-Ange Gabrielle, who
stayed in our house many years ago, before we
went to Damascus
Very likely, said Rabbi Mordechai. I am sure
no one asked too many questions then, either.
Anyway, I told Sergei that I have done much more
than just touch his wife, and I put my hand on his
shoulder, and explained something very important
to him.
Sergei, everything and anyone I touch, I only do it
for humanitys good. These houses are for poor old
people who have no place to live properly. And if
I tried to explain to you how I built them in one
day, you would not believe me.
Problem is, Rabbi Mordechai, is that after what
happened with my wife, I would believe you I
dont know what to do, said Sergei.
You know that sometimes my methods cannot be
explained. Remember when your daughter Irina
was having trouble getting into the University?
Remember how I transferred the money and got her
registered from a distance, and when she got back

to the University the next day the secretary was


amazed to see that all was written properly in her
log and Irina was a registered student who had
paid her bills, overnight? So I say, dont ask
questions, Sergei. What does it matter? The houses
are here now. But you have no reason to worry. If
needed, I can make the houses disappear. Close
your eyes for just a minute.
Sergei closed his eyes, and I restored the blanket.
Open them now, Sergei. He did, and practically
jumped, so surprised he was. The houses were not
there. The two policemen were so scared by this
phenomenon that they dropped their guns and ran
away. Sergei stepped over and picked up the guns,
automatically, staring at the direction of the houses
that were not there. The fools, he said, almost to
himself. They probably think its the Devils
work But Rabbi Mordechai, all your work!
Making it disappear like that, How? Why?
I can bring them back, I said. If you close your
eyes again, I will do so. He did, and the houses
returned. Sergei was shaken.
You are playing with my head, Rabbi Mordechai.

Are you trying to scare me? said Sergei. I know


you are not the Devil, but honestly So you can
make them disappear and appear at will? Wont it
be dangerous to the people inside?
No, I can get them out first, I said.
But what if my supervisors hear about it and come
to inspect?
You will give me warning, and Ill make the
houses disappear.
Ah, well, said Sergei, giving up. Ill close my
eyes to the whole thing and tell my policemen that
if they dont shut up the Devil will get them.
What a story, I said. And did any trouble follow
these events
No. Strangely enough, nothing ever happened to
disturb the people I moved into these houses.
Somehow, the police never talked, and the
occupants were safe. Of course, such houses, built
by supernatural phenomena, are not permanent.
They last ten, fifteen years, no more. But when they
disappear, I will find another solution. Anyway,
Germain, I have other, very important things to tell
you. Are you beginning to realize who and what I

am?
I suspect you are an Ulema, Rabbi Mordechai, as
well as an alchemist and a Kabbalist. Too much
coincidence if you are not an Ulema
Rabbi Mordechai laughed loudly and clapped his
hands. What a boy. He is not stupid, after all
Did you think I was stupid, Rabbi Mordechai?
None of my teachers was ever so blunt, but I did
not mind. He was so good natured, so alive, so full
of love.
No, no, my boy, of course not but you do make
stupid mistakes, and you will make more as you go
on. I will try my best to prevent you from doing
them. As you have probably guessed, it was
decided that from now on I will be taking over
your Ulema education. I felt a thrill, a sense of
happiness, at the words. From now on, you will
be close to me, very close, and if you pay attention
to the advice and guidance, you will experience a
great, big kind of life. An extraordinary and
exciting life.
Of course I will pay attention, Rabbi Mordechai.
Didnt the Master give me a good character?

Yes, he did. If he did not, no effort on my part


would have convinced the Ulema that you are good
material for apprenticeship as a grown up. You
spent your childhood studying with the Master,
who was spiritual and philosophical. Then you
studied self defense and various styles of
meditation with the highly intellectual Chinese and
Japanese Masters in Okinawa. Now you need
practical guidance, application to real life
situations. This is where I come in.
Will I never see the Master again? I asked
wistfully. I loved Rabbi Mordechai, but the Master
was a very special influence in my life, for so
many years, and I hated losing his friendship.
Of course you will see him! We never desert our
students, and he will continue to watch over you.
But this is the Ulemas way. Every student spends
time with teachers from various countries, many
disciplines, a great variety of instruction.
I am so very happy to study with you, Rabbi
Mordechai. You are like a father to me.
That is good. We will start as soon as you finish
your university studies. The most important thing,

at the beginning, is that you should know the real


names of the days, the weeks, the years. You
should know the hidden secrets that are contained
in each hour of the day. And most important, your
own personal place in all this. When you
accomplish these tasks, you will have acquired
extraordinary powers. For example, you will be
able to accomplish any task faster than ten or
fifteen people put together. You will be able to
double yourself, and much more. He stopped,
looked at me in his quizzical way, and said, Are
you listening?
Yes, I said. I am listening, of course.
As time goes by, dont be afraid if all of a sudden
I will be inside your room without knocking at the
door. It may be necessary for me to materialize, in
order to help you.
I will never be afraid of you, Rabbi Mordechai.
That is good. When you get your degree,
you will spend some time studying with me,
probably in Budapest. I will give you a most
extensive course of Ulema studies, and most
important, help you open your Conduit, which will

enhance your powers and your knowledge. I know,


I know, you are not sure how opening the Conduit
is going to work, and you are apprehensive about
it, but there is no need for that. It will be pleasant
and easy, a rewarding experience that will change
your life beautifully.
To be honest, I am still not sure I completely
understand the concept of the Conduit, I said. So
many strange and complicated explanations seem
to exist.
It can be defined quite simply, said Rabbi
Mordechai. The Conduit is a cell in the brain,
responsible for storing and activating extrasensory
powers. It is commonly activated by the Anunnaki,
and the Ulema had learned from them how to
activate and use it to great advantage.
But Western Science never mentions it, I
said.
No, it does not. Traditional science, which
is still mapping, researching, and charting the
brain, has not discovered it as yet. The brain, as is
well known and freely admitted by scientists, is
still much of a great mystery to science.

This is true, I said.


But in a few short years, science will
discover it, much like the way they discovered
DNA, a concept that was known to the Anunnaki
for eons. Anyway, returning to the business at hand,
after we accomplish the opening your Conduit and
do a little more preparations, you will meet Les
Pres du Triangle.
This shocked me. I vaguely knew who they were,
but never imagined they would have anything to do
with me. Since 1100 AD, they existed in Paris and
in Provence, but all I really heard was that they
were a most powerful and secret society, and that
they regularly meet to decide on the economic flux
of the worlds markets. I was not sure what results
were achieved by them. They will want to meet
me?
Yes, they will. It is all arranged. They will ask
you a lot of questions, and if they like you, they
will initiate you. I will have to teach you very
extensively to meet their demands, but it will be
worth it. If all goes well, after the initiation we
will send you to Ethiopia, to meet the Grand

Master of the Lodge. Of course, you will also


simultaneously work on your university studies,
you must receive your degree.
Of course, I said, hoping for the best. This
sounded like a very busy schedule. Rabbi
Mordechai looked at my concerned face and burst
out laughing. Not to worry, son! Its not going to
be all that difficult. Even from a distance, I will
help you go so quickly through your university
studies, it will be a joke! And we are going to have
a lot of fun, too. Want to see a trick?
What kind of trick?
An alchemy trick.
So Mr. Markowitch told the truth? You really are
an alchemist?
Among other things, my boy. Many other things.
Before anything else, I am an Ulema. Also, I am a
Kabbalist, and studied Kabbalah with the best.
Kabbalah has a lot in common with the Ulemas
doctrines. I do enjoy alchemy, I admit, but its just
a game, you know.
A game? People have given their lives to find the
Elixir of Life, to create gold.

That is because they did not know what is really


important. Knowledge is important, and kindness.
Wealth and the Elixir are childs play by
comparison. Now do you want to see the trick or
not?
Sure, I said, cheering up. You simply could not
stay gloomy in Rabbi Mordechais presence. His
joy of life trampled over all difficulties and
troubles. So come to the machine, he said. We
approached the mysterious machine, and I saw a
ring of blue light on the glass top. He said, Take
this ashtray from the table, and put it on the
machine. I did, and he turned a knob on the side of
the machine. Then, from a drawer on the bottom of
the machine, he took a shiny black box that looked
like a cover, and put it on top of the ashtray.
Tearing a piece of paper from one of his note
books, he put it on the top of the black cover.
Now, he said, Draw something on this paper,
anything you like.
Draw? I said, confused. Draw what?
Whatever! A banana! he said.
Okay, I said, and drew a small banana on the

paper.
You dont know how to think big! Rabbi
Mordechai admonished me, tapping me over the
head to emphasize his words. Why such a small
banana? Ah well, never mind. Do you want it gold,
silver, a red ruby?
I cant paint it, Rabbi Mordechai. There are no
paints here, I said. He shook his head in mock
despair and took another cover from a second
drawer under the machine, and covered my
drawing. Then, he turned a second knob on the
machine. Something buzzed, then stopped.
Done! he said. Lift the cover. I did, and to my
absolute amazement, I saw that a perfect replica of
my banana drawing, but solid and three
dimensional, was lying on the black cover. It was
made of gold. I looked at it, transfixed. It was just
like what he did with the mezuzah. Rabbi
Mordechai laughed.
So now you see how stupid you can be, son?
Why stupid? I asked, surprised. I did everything
you said. You said, draw a banana.
You drew this tiny, little, puny banana! If you had

bothered to draw a huge, fat, large banana, you


would have created plenty more gold! You got to
think big, very big, always! I burst out laughing.
Yes, I have missed an opportunity to create a huge
slab of pure gold. Ill know better next time. But
most important, life and learning with Rabbi
Mordechai promised to be an adventure of
enormous proportions, and a world of knowledge,
thrills, and extraordinary powers and creativity
was opening for me. I could not wait to begin.

*** *** ***

Chapter Five
The Bridge of Enlightment:
Adventures
in Budapest
Graduating the University
Journey to Budapest
Rabbis Mordechai magical garden and
most unusual friends
A different type of technology
Encounter with the Gypsy fortune teller
The role of the Pres du Triangle
Opening the Conduit
Self transportation over a bridge
Self realization

Lesson Five: The Triangle of Life:


Applying the Value of the Triangle Shape to
Health, Success, and Peace of Mind.

Shortly after our conversation, Rabbi Mordechai


left us and returned to Budapest, where he lived
more or less permanently when he was not
traveling to distant places to accomplish his
mysterious work. I went back to the university, to
enjoy a normal students life again, but something
was different. I noticed that my work became
easier, and that I was doing it faster, just at the time
in which the studies should have become harder.
An essay that would have taken me a couple of
weeks to research and write, now took a week.
Studying for tests no longer required staying up
late; a quick skimming of the material showed me
that I knew it so well that I simply could not fail
the test. The strangest phenomenon was that I
always knew without fail what the test would
actually be about. I did not trust this strange feeling
and used to go over the entire material that was
indicated to the students, but I could have
dispensed with that if I had placed trust in my

strange premonitions. As the speed and comfort of


studying increased, I tried to pinpoint the
development of these powers; I knew it had
something to do with Rabbi Mordechai, but what?
Well, after much thought, I realized that each time I
got a letter from him, my speed and ease of studies
increased. Yes, he promised to do it from a
distance, and he surely did. I suppose he enjoyed
the joke!
I graduated with honors, and at the same day of the
ceremony a letter arrived from Rabbi Mordechai.
The fun and games are over, son. Congratulations
on your degree, but now the time has come to start
some real studies. I laughed. Most people would
consider a degree from a French university a
difficult task, but Rabbi Mordechai considered it
childs play by comparison to the complications of
the Ulema studies. Ah, well. I hoped my newly
acquired speed and ease of study would help me
along that, too. So pack your bags, Germain, the
letter continued, and come to Budapest for a little
while. The summer is nice here, the Danube is
really blue, I have a comfortable room for you and

a huge library, and we can accomplish all we need


in about three months, I believe, if we work hard.
But I promise to show you the sights and you will
have some fun as well as hard work. I knew I
would. And I could not wait to start my Ulema
studies and open the doors to a life studded with
miracles.
He was waiting for me at the train station, wearing
his black suit despite the pleasant summer weather,
and looking, as usual, like a combination of a
priest, a rabbi, a peasant, and a large bear. He
hugged me with his usual enthusiasm, his eyes
sparkling with joy, and I was so happy to see him
after the year of separation. It is amazing how
attached I became to Rabbi Mordechai after the
very short time we spent together but when two
people are connected by Ulema ties, it can happen.
Budapest is an interesting city in its design, since it
is really comprised of two separate entities. The
River Danube flows into the city from north to
south. Buda, the residential area, is situated on the
hills to the West. Pest, the commercial area, is
located on a flat plain. Rabbi Mordechais house

was located in a quiet street in Buda. It was a


typically large, three stories Eastern European
stone house, with low windows secured with metal
bars. Inside, the place was simply and comfortably
furnished, and my room, where he took me to put
down the suitcase, was indeed spacious and
pleasant. A charming rounded wood burning stove
was standing there, though being summer, it was
not lit. A large, old fashioned dark wood armoire,
beautifully carved, probably 18th Century, a bed
piled with pillows stood under the window, and a
desk and chair completed the furniture. The
window overlooked a big, lush garden.
I expected Rabbi Mordechai to have a lab, perhaps
with a machine that could transmute drawings into
gold, like the one he had in Mr. Markowitchs
house in Paris, but he did not have either. His
work, apparently, was done in the library, a large
room lined with books on all sides. It had a couple
of big wooden tables heaped with more books,
papers, and writing implements, and several
comfortable old arm chairs for reading. He left me
there, and went to get us coffee and lunch. I

suspected, quite correctly, that I will be spending


most of my time in the room, so I walked around,
checked the eclectic collection of books of so
many subjects that they would make an ordinary
persons head spin, and admired a large and
handsome globe that stood on one of the tables. I
always liked globes, so I gave this one a twirl with
my finger, and watched it spin.
Which country did you hit on with your finger?
asked Rabbi Mordechai, entering the room with a
tray just as I was doing it.
I have no idea, I said, surprised. Does it matter?
I was just playing
Rabbi Mordechai looked at me with a mysterious
air. Yes, sometimes it does, he said, smiling
benevolently at me. We are going to do some
interesting things with this globe. Come, eat, you
must be starving after the long trip! I had no
objection and came to the table. Rabbi Mordechai
swept aside a stack of papers, put a few books on
the floor, and poured me a cup of excellent Turkish
coffee. The light meal was very tasty, with
delicious olives from Klamata, which, he told me,

were given to him by an old Greek gentleman as a


token of friendship, good bread, and a white, spicy
cheese, made into small balls that floated in olive
oil. The cheese, he said, was brought by another
friend, an old woman from Albania. Yes, he
said. These are good, old-fashioned people, they
show their love by bringing such nice gifts, how
could I refuse? I do my best for them in return. Its
the way people used to live in villages, in the old
days, helping each other, bringing gifts
I imagine you do a lot more for them than they do
for you, Rabbi Mordechai, knowing your record of
helping people. But still, its nice, you dont have
to do a lot of shopping, I said. And its very kind
of them.
Yes, what do I need? As you know, I am a
vegetarian just like you and your family, and I
never touch meat or fish. All I need, after I get such
delicacies as gifts, is bread, rice, and beans, since
I grow all the fruit and vegetables I eat in my
garden. For me, the simple life is best. It was an
interesting comment, since I knew he could live
like a Sultan from the Arabian Nights tales if he so

wished, being able to manufacture gold at will. But


the Ulema view luxury as childish toys, and only
indulge in it if there is a need or a cause that
demands it. However, as for the food, it turned out
he was a superb cook. With simple ingredients and
a kitchen that did not have elaborate and fancy
tools, he could create meals that would be fit for
royalty. I learned a lot of cooking from him and
valued the skill very much over the years,
particularly when I could later surprise guests who
thought vegetarian eating was dull, by presenting
them with a vegetarian banquet, cooked by myself,
that would amaze them with its variety, colors and
delicate taste and style.
When we finished the meal, I helped him stack the
dishes on the tray, and asked, Where is the
kitchen? Ill go and wash up.
Id better show you, he said. We went into the
living room, and in the far side of it was a heavy
wooden door. Watch out, there are three stairs
here, he said, as he opened the door. The kitchen,
at this lower level, was quite large, but extremely
primitive. I wanted to put the olive jar and the

cheese in the refrigerator, but as I looked around


for it, I did not see one.
Where is the refrigerator? I asked.
I dont have one, he said.
So where do you store the food? I asked,
surprised, still holding the tray and not knowing
where to put it.
On this table, he said. I looked, and saw a table
piled with vegetables, more cheese, bread, and
many other foodstuffs. But doesnt the food spoil
much quicker, without a refrigerator? If they are
not available here, cant people get iceboxes, at
least?
Well, yes, many people do, said Rabbi
Mordechai, smiling at some funny idea of his own
that I did not understand, but I dont need one.
Take a look at these things, they are much better.
He pointed to three small objects that stood on the
table around the food. They were made of crystal,
and shaped like pyramids. I had no idea what
purpose they served.
Let me show you. Put the tray on the chair next to
the table, then take the olive and cheese jars and

put them somewhere between these triangles, he


said. I assumed that by saying triangles he meant
the crystal pyramids, so just as he said, I went to
the table, put the tray on the chair, and placed the
jars at the center of the table, between the
pyramids. I was startled by the sensation of
extreme cold that enveloped my hands and arms as
I placed the jars on the table. The atmosphere in
the room was comfortably warm. The atmosphere
between the crystal pyramids was icy cold, as cold
as a freezer. Rabbi Mordechai laughed aloud and
beat the arm of the chair, making the dishes rattle
alarmingly. There are other options than
technology, he said. The triangles keep the food
fresh much longer
You are playing tricks again! I accused him,
jokingly.
Why not? he said, smiling. Knowledge does not
have to take away your sense of humor, son! Life is
fun!
Indeed life with Rabbi Mordechai was always fun,
even though we studied very hard, every day, all
day long. My only complaint was that sometimes

he would be argumentative and use semantics that


did not make sense to me, but the work itself was
so interesting and engaging that it did not matter.
Also, I felt that some of the techniques he
demonstrated to me were simply tricks used to
show off, though now I realize how wrong I was.
Well, I was young, I suppose, and naturally there
was much I could not understand. Around six
oclock we usually had our dinner, then went out
for a walk, and he showed me a lot of the beautiful
sights of Budapest.
Budapest is such a lovely town, that even the
Soviet occupation could not hide the fact. Art,
music, cafs, were everywhere. It was a city full of
spas, the healthful water used not just by tourists,
but by the inhabitants themselves. Parks and streets
lined by horse chestnut trees gave the city a
refreshing atmosphere, and even the cemeteries
were imposing with their magnificent statues. I
particularly enjoyed strolling along the grand
boulevard that was designed by Count Gyula
Andrssy, when he returned to Hungary in the
1880s, after staying for a while in Paris. He had

decided that Budapest needed a Champs Elyses


look-alike, and created a street of great beauty,
with candelabra lamps, cobblestones, parks, and
magnificent architecture. The street had many
names during its colorful history. Sugr t (Radial
Strasse) in 1883, Andrssy t in 1886, Sztlin t in
1950, the Magyar Ifjsg tja, or Hungarian Street
of Youth, in October 1956, and Npkztrsasg
tja, or People's Republic in 1957, which is what
it was still called while I was visiting. Many years
later, in 1990, the original name of its founder,
Andrssy, was restored, and the street underwent
renovations. Of course, during my visit it was still
a little shabby from the war years, but still, it
glowed with the glory of its past and you felt as if
you were living cultural history in every step. At
one time or another, it was home to the musicians
Erkel, Liszt and Zoltn Kodly, and the poet Endre
Ady, among many other writers and artists. The old
opera house was there, with the marble sphinxes
that guard the front portals, various art museums,
and Prizsi Nagyruhz, or Parisian Grand
Department Store, with its magnificent Art

Nouveau facade.
Sometimes we visited, or were visited by,
some of his old friends, a group of very pleasant
and interesting people. At first I was surprised that
all of them spoke at least one language I
understood, but soon enough I realized that they
were not exactly ordinary people, and after all,
Rabbi Mordechai himself spoke twenty-six
languages, both ancient and modern ones, so why
wont his friends share his interest? Besides, with
my newly acquired speed, I picked up Hungarian
very quickly.
We did other things that were great fun. Rabbi
Mordechai had a lovely garden behind his house,
full of flowers, vegetables, and a few good fruit
trees. I particularly remember the scent of basil
and mint, and the marvelous tomatoes he grew. I
have never seen roses as big and as fragrant as his.
Did he do his gardening like everyone else, and
just had a green thumb, or did he receive a little
help from the Ulema secrets? I suspected there was
some magic involved, and when I confronted him
with the question, he laughed, with a slightly guilty

expression.
Well, son, not here, really. I am just a good
gardener here. But in Estonia and Lithuania, this is
another matter the gardens there are so small,
and my people needed a lot of good food, to get
well and strong.
So you did something to the plants?
Yes. I married certain plants to each other.
Whatever do you mean?
For example, I created a plant that combined the
virtues of two of your favorites, mint and basil.
You know they are very close in their makeup,
coming from the same family, so it is very easy to
create a plant that gives the leaves of both.
Sometimes I would make a mistake and give
someone a cup of tea, which was intended as a
mint tea, with a mix of the two, and they would be
looking at the drink with surprise, but usually it
worked well. You went to the garden, and took the
right kind of leaves for the dish you were cooking.
As a matter of fact, I am sure that a few decades
from now people will do it all the time, that is,
engineer plants to fit various qualities.

I would bet you did more than just basil and mint,
Rabbi Mordechai. How about a plant that gave
both tomatoes and cucumbers?
No, no, that would make people very suspicious,
he protested. Tomatoes and cucumbers do not
belong to the same plant family.
So, you could combine potato and tomato, since
they both belong to the nightshade family, I
suggested. And whats more, tomato grows above
ground, and potato below ground, so no one will
suspect. You could harvest the tomatoes in summer,
and the potatoes in the autumn.
Nice idea, he said. I noticed that he did not deny
the allegation. Many years later, I saw a plant like
that sold in a garden catalog as a miracle plant.
Another reason for my suspicion for magic in
the garden was that the birds, which are rare in
Budapest, came in great numbers to visit Rabbi
Mordechais garden. I saw him talking to them
many times, and they would come and eat seeds
from his hands, and sit on his shoulders. He used to
talk to them, very softly so as not to frighten the
little things, and gave each an individual name. He

certainly considered them his personal friends. I


have a great love of animals, inherited from my
mother and encouraged by her, so I loved watching
him with the birds, and the day that some of them
ate from my own hand was a great joy.
Another talent he had was also a great surprise.
One evening, Rabbi Mordechai took me to a
famous gypsy caf. The owner rushed over to greet
him. She was a middle aged woman who looked
like a Gypsy, though later I found out she was pure
Russian. Her gray hair was done in braids, piled
up high on her head, she wore huge golden
earrings, and her red dress matched the flamboyant
gold, crimson, and violet dcor of the cheerful
restaurant. The waiter and the members of the
Gypsy band gathered around Rabbi Mordechai,
calling each other Hey, come here, the Rabbi
has arrived! and many of the guests rose and came
to say hello. We had a sumptuous meal, helped
along by Vodka, which Rabbi Mordechai adored
and could drink in large quantities without ever
getting drunk. Before I knew it, he went to the band
and said something, and they cheered loudly and

gave him a balalaika. This was really amazing I


had no idea how well he played the instrument.
The entire performance of the band, which was
quite good to begin with, greatly improved when
he joined them. When he was done playing, he
danced with half of the women in the restaurant,
and only then returned, followed by a great
applause, to drink coffee and have dessert back at
our table. Then, a fortune-telling woman
approached our table. She had a double job at the
restaurant, I found out later, generally in the
kitchen, but some nights as a fortune teller. She
was a real Gypsy, unlike the owner, and apparently
learned the fortune telling trade on her mothers
knee. Sir, she said to Rabbi Mordechai, May I
read your palm? Maybe I have good news for you?
And later the young master, too? Rabbi
Mordechai laughed good-naturally, and offered her
his palm.
The woman took his palm and looked at it.
Suddenly, she stopped and dropped his hand as if
touched by fire. She raised her big black eyes at
him, and bowed deeply. Daskali mathia sou

she whispered, with sounded like awe, or even


fear, bowed again, and backed away from the
table, and disappeared into the back of the
restaurant, most likely into the kitchen.
What did she say? I asked Rabbi Mordechai,
intrigued by the womans strange behavior.
She said, My teacher oh, those eyes having
recognized me, she did not feel she could predict
my future, it would not be seemly.
Recognized you? Everyone knows you here.
She is a real fortune teller, Germain. She has
deep, ancient knowledge. Her people, the Romani,
they can recognize an Ulema and they respect us,
viewing us as their teachers and their superiors.
She must be new at the restaurant, since we have
never met before.
I sipped my coffee and thought. All over the world,
there seemed to be networks and connections that
ordinary people, going about their business, did
not see, did not feel, did not even suspect. Rabbi
Mordechai, however, was not in the mood for
introspection. Instead, he decided to play another
tune with the band. After that, requesting the check

from the waiter, the owner came to our table,


practically forbid him to leave so early, as she
said, refused her pay, and said that we are to be
her guests since Rabbi Mordechais mere presence
was so much fun that the other guests ate and drank
double the quantities they would on any other night.
So Rabbi Mordechai laughed, got another coffee
for us, and stayed a little longer to please the kind
lady.
On our way home, myself slightly drunk, I asked
him, Rabbi Mordechai, are you a physical or a
nonphysical Ulema? He burst out laughing. Did
you ever see a phantom drink so much Vodka? Of
course I am physical. I love being physical and I
love life!
But you can leave your body if needed, right?
Oh, yes, when needed. But generally its much
more fun to be in my body. I have never tried
dancing when I am out of the body!

All in all, the Ulema studies were extremely


complicated and difficult, but the experience was

exhilarating, and I felt as if door after door was


opened to me, showing vistas that I have never
seen before. I learned many of the secrets Rabbi
Mordechai promised to teach me, including the
secrets hidden in various concepts, such as the
days of the month and the week, and my place in
the universe.
One of the most important lessons, which at
the end of this chapter will be presented as a
lesson to the readers, was the Triangle of Life. It
was not an easy lesson to digest, but once I
grasped it, it served me faithfully for my entire life.
We are going to study a very important matter
today, said Rabbi Mordechai. We are going to
apply the value of the triangle shape to real life
and to the organization we call the Pres du
Triangle. I am not sure if you are aware of it, but
there are six Triangles on earth. Actually, they rule
the earth.
Are they political, are they part of existing
governments? I asked.
They are more important, far more so, than mere
governments. Can you define for me what are the

most important things in life?


Life itself? I said.
Yes, this is right within itself, but it does not
answer the question. I was annoyed. Here we go
again, I said to myself. I am arguing with an old
Jewish Rabbi. They always go round and round,
using semantics that get you nowhere. How can I
be right and wrong at the same time? I asked.
Well, we will go about it in a different way, said
Rabbi Mordechai. What is the meaning of life on
earth?
Family? Friends? I said, knowing full well that
he will argue again, and I was right.
Family and friends make our life meaningful, of
course, said Rabbi Mordechai, but they are not
the meaning of life. The meaning of life is based on
the fact that life is, in itself, a triangle. One corner
of the triangle represents health. The second
represents success. The third represents peace of
mind. Visualize it like that. And he demonstrated
by joining his two thumbs and his two forefingers,
creating a triangle. You find meaning by placing
this triangle on the world. He leaned his hands on

the large globe. But the all important thing is to


find the right spot to put the triangle on.
I am not sure I follow, I said, dubiously.
So lets demonstrate it with some props, said
Rabbi Mordechai. He gave me paper, pencil, a
ruler, and a pair of scissors. Now, he said,
draw and cut a more or less equilateral triangle
from this peace of paper. I did, trying my best to
make an exact drawing, and cut it carefully.
Now, he said, put it anywhere on the globe.
I took the paper, and feeling like a fool tried to
place the paper on the globe, knowing that it will
fall off since I used no glue. Of course it fell,
several times, until Rabbi Mordechai smiled rather
cynically, an expression I have never seen on his
face before. Put it on again, he said, giving the
globe a piercing look. I did, and the paper stuck to
the globe. Another trick, I thought. I was tired of
tricks.
Spin the globe, he said. The triangle stuck and
the globe was spinning.
As this is happening, said Rabbi Mordechai,
realize that if the lines of the triangle were

somehow continued, they would represent lines of


energy around the world. Lets concentrate on the
lines that occur when you extend the Health corner
at the top of the triangle. This energy flows in
currents, both negative and positive, mostly
underground, traversing the globe. This was
beginning to make sense to me. I span the globe
again, the paper stuck, and I tried to imagine the
continued lines that would follow the entire world.
I was beginning to see the pattern.
Those who live above the positive lines, will
have good health. Those who live above the
negative lines, will have bad health. But lets
elaborate a little. Look at the drawing I am about to
make.
He drew a triangle, wrote Health on the top of it,
and said, This is Triangle A. Then, he extended
the lines. Close these lines and thus create a
second triangle of the same size exactly, which we
call Triangle B. everything inside Triangle B will
have good health. Now, make a copy, of an exact
size, of Triangle A. Move it up and center it
exactly on Triangle B. By doing this, you have

created a six pointed Star of David.


By now I realized we were not doing any tricks,
but studying a most fascinating and helpful
technique. How do we proceed? I asked, poring
over the drawing.
We will number the four small triangles created
on the sides of the Star of David 1, 2, 3, and 4. All
countries located inside these four small triangles
are good for health. Should you have a health
issue, or a desire to live in the more healthy
places, these are your choices.
So I imagine that you can do the same for Success
and Peace of Mind, to find the best of each
quality?
Correct, said Rabbi Mordechai.
Ah, but there still one problem here. Where do I
put the triangle? How do I choose the original
location? I asked.
Rabbi Mordechai laughed. For once, son, I
encourage you to consider yourself the center of
the world. You put the triangle wherever you are.
However, Rabbi Mordechai, another question
remains. At this moment I am in Budapest. I put the

triangle on the map of Hungary and learn of my


best locations. But next week, or next month, I am
going back to France. Then, should I put it on the
map of France?
Yes, of course, said Rabbi Mordechai. This
technique is working within the dictates of the
moment. Wherever you are, the triangle follows.
And it always works.
I am a little surprised to see the Star of David
involved in Ulema teachings, I said.
Not at all, said Rabbi Mordechai. You must
realize that the Kabbalists share many of the Ulema
techniques. There is much more to it, as this is only
one of the seven great secrets of the Star of
David, said Rabbi Mordechai. The Kabbalists
have been using it to great advantage for
centuries.
But the Triangle is used by the Pres du Triangle,
so it is a universal symbol, I said.
Good point. As you can imagine, the presence of
the Star of David caused the usual Anti Semitic
comments that the Jews are ruling the financial
world. But this is sheer nonsense. The Pres du

Triangle include people from all religions and


nations, and they have very little affiliation to
either. The Star of David, even though it signifies
in Judaism and is placed on the flag of the state of
Israel, is entirely universal and many scholars
claim its origin is Anunnaki. Indeed, so much of
the Ulema knowledge comes from the Anunnaki,
that it did not surprise me.

Time passed quickly. I have learned so much,


everything of which, Rabbi Mordechai promised,
would enable me to succeed in my meeting with
the Pres du Triangle, and later in all my
endeavors in life. But something, I knew, was still
missing, and I was very hesitant asking about it.
One day I gathered all my courage and asked him,
What about the opening of the Conduit?
It will happen soon enough, he said.
But is there work to be done in preparation? What
is the process?
It varies, said Rabbi Mordechai. Come on, lets
go out, you are tired from so much study. I

certainly was, since that evening we continued


working after our dinner, having been engaged in
an interesting study, so we did not go to our usual
walk. It was rather late at night, and I felt I would
enjoy a little fresh air. Lets go to one of the
bridges between Buda and Pest, said Rabbi
Mordechai. Its a pleasant night for a walk.
Which one should we go to? I asked.
Lets go to the Szchenyi Lnchd, the Chain
Bridge, said Rabbi Mordechai. I certainly had no
objection to that; this bridge was a thing of beauty.
It was called after Count Istvan Szchenyi, who
had commissioned it, and was the first of the eight
permanent bridges in the city. The Count invested
much thought and effort in building the bridge. He
not only asked a French authority, Marc Isambard
Brunel, for advice, but even went to examine
William Tierney Clarks bridge across the Thames
at Marlow, England, before finalizing his plans.
The bridge was built between 1839 and 1849, and
the stunning lions at each end were designed by the
great sculptor, Jnos Marschalko. There is a great
debate regarding the lions tongues. Some say that

they are there, though extremely hard to find even if


you climb all the way up the pedestals on the four
corners of the bridge. Others say there are no
tongues at all, and tell a legend that during the
opening ceremony, a little boy noticed that the
tongues were not there, and told the sculptor. Poor
Marschalko was so distraught by realizing he had
forgotten such an important detail, that he hurled
himself off the bridge to his death.
It was late at night, there was no one present on the
bridge, and the lights of the city reflected
beautifully in the dark water. We stood for a
moment, enjoying the sight, and then Rabbi
Mordechai said, quite suddenly, How long do you
think it will take you to cross the bridge?
I dont know, I said, trying to estimate the length.
Would you like to bet I can do it quicker than
you? he asked, his blue green eyes twinkling with
amusement.
Sure, I said, laughing. Why not?
Good, he said. But you must walk straight and
not look back or even to the sides. I knew he had
something up his sleeve, but it was fun to play the

game. Very well, I said. Shall I start?


Go! he said, laughing, and I started walking,
looking ahead, avoiding looking back or to the
sides. When I reached the end of the bridge, Rabbi
Mordechai was standing there, leaning against it,
smiling.
I see, I said. Very impressive. I would like to
learn this technique.
I am happy to hear that you are not calling it a
trick, said Rabbi Mordechai, seriously.
No, I dont think this is a trick, I said. I felt a
vague regret. Have I let Rabbi Mordechai down by
being skeptical? Were there some subtle points I
have missed?
Lets go to the other side, he said. Would you
like to try how this technique feels?
Yes, I would, I said. In a fraction of a second, I
was on the other side of the bridge, without any
delay or even any sensation. I was just there, while
a second ago, I was elsewhere. Rabbi Mordechai
was not near me. I looked at the bridge, and I saw
him walking toward me. Obviously, he wanted to
show me that I was not hallucinating. If we were

both transported together, I might have suspected


that we never really left and it was only some sort
of hallucination, another trick, but seeing Rabbi
Mordechai walking on the bridge would prevent
any such suspicion. He wanted to reassure me, as I
thought. I had shown a sad lack of trust, and
perhaps I had hurt this great, forgiving, loving
friend who would do anything for me. How could
I? I felt so ashamed.
When he came to the other side, I said, Rabbi
Mordechai, I know why you transported me and
walked yourself. I understand your motive. But it is
no longer necessary to do so. I fully trust you. I am
your student, forever.
Rabbi Mordechai looked at me with tears in his
eyes, and hugged me with all his might. You are
more than my student, Germain. You are my son
from now on. A great wave of happiness and
peace flowed through me. He was not angry, he
understood, he knew I placed all my trust in him
and I was forgiven Suddenly, I felt something I
could not explain, something that happened in my
mind, or in my brain, or in my soul, something that

I could not prove but was as tangible as the river


and the houses. The ability to trust I have so
suddenly discovered in myself burst open the gates
in my mind, and my Conduit opened.
I staggered a little, caught on to the bridge, and
recovered almost instantly. The world felt different
than before, but I was still myself.
How did it happen so fast? I asked.
It was not fast at all, said Rabbi Mordechai. It
was exactly as it should be, as it always is, and
always will be. You see, your other masters taught
you many things, and there was an enormous
amount of dormant knowledge which was
accumulated in your mind and constantly fed by
them. And now, at the right time, and under the
right circumstances, and encouraged by your
ability to accept the Ulema way, the Conduit
opened, by itself, like a flower. You are now ready
to start on the road to being a full- fledged Ulema.
Welcome, my son.

*** *** ***

Lesson Five
The Triangle of Life: Applying the Value of the
Triangle Shape to Health, Success, and Peace of
Mind

________________________________
How this technique will enhance your life:

With the help of the triangle, you will able to find the perfect areas
on earth where your health, success, and peace of mind will be at
their optimum. You can work it on a large scale and find out the best
countries to live in, or on a small scale, which would give you the
best neighbourhoods in your own city or county.

Synopsis of the Theory


(For complete description of the theory, read
Chapter Five)

There are lines of energy spinning around

the world. In this exercise, we will


concentrate on the lines that are revealed by
the use of the triangle. The energy flows in
currents, both negative and positive, mostly
underground, traversing the globe. Those who
live above the positive lines, will have good
health, success, and peace of mind. Those
who live above the negative lines, will have
bad health, lack of success, and will
experience mind turmoil.
The meaning of life is based on the fact that
life is, in itself, a triangle. One corner of the
triangle represents health. The second
represents success. The third represents
peace of mind. You find meaning by placing
the triangle you are about to draw on the
world.
The student might ask, where do I put the
triangle? How do I choose the original
location? The answer is, you put the triangle
wherever you are.
The student might ask, what if I change
locations? The answer is, this technique is

working within the dictates of the moment.


Wherever you are, the triangle follows.
Change it as many times in life as you need. It
always works.

Materials
This lesson can be accomplished with two
different props. You can use a globe, or a flat
map of the world. A globe gives a more
precise directions, but it is expensive and
sometimes hard to get. The student may
instead use a flat map of the world. It is not as
precise, but the distortion is so slight that it
does not signify, and it is cheaper and readily
available.
If you are using a map, you will need
lightweight paper which is somewhat
transparent, a pen, a ruler, and a pair of
scissors.
If you are using a globe, you will need
plastic wrap, the kind that is used to wrap

sandwiches or leftovers in the kitchen, since


it will adhere easily to a globe. You will also
need a magic marker that can write on this
material, a ruler, and a pair of scissors.
Technique

The drawings below show how the double


triangle, or the six-pointed star, was created.
To be most effective, an individual exercise
should be used separately for Health,
Success, and Peace of Mind. As you copy the
template below, simply change the word on
top for each exercise.

Triangle A was drawn as an equilateral triangle.

Health

Success Peace of mind


Figure 1: Triangle A

Triangle B was drawn by extending the


lines on top of triangle A, and then closing
these lines and thus creating a second triangle
of the same size exactly.

Triangle B

Health

Success Peace of mind


Figure 2: Triangle on the top is triangle B.

Triangle A was moved up and centered


exactly on Triangle B. By doing this, we have
created a six pointed star. We have numbered
the four small triangles created on the sides of
the star, as1, 2, 3, and 4.

1. 2

34

Figure 3: The six pointed star

Copy the template of the star on transparent


paper if you are using a map, or on the plastic
wrap if you are using a globe.
Place the center of the star precisely on the
location of the place you are living in now, at
this very moment.
All countries located inside these four small
triangles are good for your health. Should you
have a health issue, or a desire to live in the
more healthy places, these are your choices

*** *** ***

Chapter Six
Initiation by the Pres du Triangle
A call from the Pres du Triangle
Journey to Ethiopia
Preliminary tests by the Ulema
Meeting Dr. Farid in Addis Ababa
An awe inspiring initiation into the Pres
du Triangle organization
The nature of the Lodges
Lesson Six: Finding Your Lucky Day and
Hour of the Week, Using The Anunnaki-Ulema
Calendar.

I returned to Paris, a changed man, and started


living the double life that was to be mine from that

moment on. Only Mama noticed the difference, but


with her usual discretion, said nothing about it. I
often wondered how much she knew about my
Ulema connections, and why she did not wish to
speak about it, particularly if, as I suspected, she
was an Ulema as well. She certainly lived her life
according to the Code of the Ulema. Many things
hinted to it, such as her respect and love for
animals, carried to the point of being a strict
vegetarian and never hiring a person who did not
have a companion animal to care for, or who had
ever mistreated animals, even slightly. Her lifelong
charity to those who needed help, her quick
understanding of situations and ability to respond
to them confidently, and her quickness in acquiring
knowledge, all fitted the Ulema lifestyle. Her
indifference to organized religion, while being
open to spiritual matters as they occurred, also
seemed part of the Ulema way. And why did
Master Li and Rabbi Mordechai spend so much
time in our home, if she were not an Ulema? It
could not be a coincidence. Most important, as an
adult I understood that unless she was at least

partially involved, she would have never


consented to send a child as young as seven-yearsold to travel to Benares or to Hong Kong,
particularly during the typhoon season. But she
would not speak of it, and I respected her silence,
which lasted till her dying day. She must have had
a reason.
I started my studies toward a doctorate degree, and
with my Conduit now fully open, they were so
simple and easy that they only filled a small part of
my time. So I began doing other things that
interested me. For example, I published a book of
poetry, and it became an instant success, gaining
praise from such lofty critics as a number of
members of LAcadmie Franaise.
The success of the book encouraged me to
continue, and I wrote other books, this time about
French literature. They begun to be used in
schools, though I dont think people knew how
young I was I had time to socialize and make
many friends, not only among my peers at the
university, but at home, since our house was, as
usual, a salon de culture for important and

interesting people, drawn by Mamas style,


elegance, and hospitality. Many of my new friends
were influential in society and in the world of
business. However, this was only part of my life.
Rabbi Mordechai told me before I left Budapest
that one day, out of the blue, I will receive the all
important phone call from a representative of the
Pres du Triangle. I would know them because
they would use a code name for me, Nabil,
translated as The Messenger.
One quiet evening, as I was sitting at home
reading, the phone rang. I picked it up, and a voice
said, Nabil?
Yes, I said. This is Nabil speaking.
Tomorrow, please come to the Caf de la Paix at
seven oclock in the evening. Sit at an outside
table, order a cup of coffee, and I will join you.
You will recognize me? I asked.
Yes, I know what you look like, he said.
Very well, I said. Thank you. Would you tell me
your name, please?
No, he said. Not on the telephone. I will
introduce myself when we meet. He hung up. This

was it, then, and so much depended on it. I wanted


to telephone Rabbi Mordechai in Budapest, to ask
for his advice, but decided against it. He trusted
that I could accomplish this task on my own, and
despite my natural anxiety, I knew that indeed, I
could trust myself to do so. I was ready.
The next evening, I went to the Caf de la Paix as
planned, and sat at an outside table. Trying to look
as ordinary as possible, I ordered a cup of coffee
and a favorite dessert, an clair. Unfortunately, as I
knew so many people in Paris, and this caf was
extremely popular, it was hard for me not to be
seen and approached by some people I knew.
Fortunately, no one stayed after saying hello, until
a good friend stopped by my table. Bertrand was
the editor-in-chief of an influential magazine, a
brilliant man, who had gotten this prestigious job
at a surprisingly young age. I liked him very much,
but at that moment, he was the last person I wanted
to see, because I was afraid he would sit down and
chat, as was his habit, and then the representative
of the Pres du Triangle might decide not to join
me. Bertrand stood by the table, and said, What

are you doing here at this time, Germain?


Shouldnt you be working?
No, its a nice evening, I did not feel like
working. Actually, I am waiting for someone, I
said, trying to not show my annoyance. Why wasnt
he leaving? Didnt he have something to do?
Yes, it is a nice evening, he said. I might get a
cup of coffee too. Is this a good clair, Nabil?
I jumped up. No! I said. It cant be. You? He
laughed and sat down. Yes, me. Why not? Why
should I not be their liaison?
I just assumed it would be some mysterious
stranger, I said, still feeling startled by his new
identity as a member of the Pres du Triangle.
Ah, well. I suppose I dont look like a mysterious
stranger, said Bertrand, laughing. He certainly did
not. Short, plump, and with a cheerful, rounded
face, he did not in the least resembled the image of
the representative of the Pres du Triangle that I
had in mind. I imagined a tall, very thin, elegant
middle-aged man, wearing a hat low over his
forehead, hiding his piercing black eyes. So how
is Rabbi Mordechai? he continued, waving at the

waiter, who approached us. Get me the same thing


you got for Mr. Lumire, he said, and turned back
to me, as if we were enjoying the simplest and
most ordinary evening.
He is very well, I said. I did not even know you
were acquainted, I said.
Really? Didnt you know that Rabbi Mordechai
introduced me to the magazine, and got me the
job?
No, I had no idea, I said. But I know his
connections are amazing.
As time goes on, so would be ours, said my
friend. When you are a member of the Pres du
Triangle, the whole world opens up to you. I am a
brilliant young man, as everyone, myself in
particular, is ready to acknowledge. But do you
think that I would be in such a high position at my
tender age? In France, people my age are
considered mere children.
But you are doing a great job, everyone says so.
Yes, but merit is not the only thing in this world.
Connections are very important.
And being a member of the Pres du Triangle

opens the doors, I said.


Yes. You see, the Pres du Triangle are only one
of the organizations of the Ulema. They are
responsible for those of us who are destined, from
an early age, chosen specifically for certain
qualities, to serve as Ulema who are in the world
and of the world. There are other organizations,
who would initiate those who are more fitted to the
strictly spiritual life. They would spend their lives
in a very different way, more secluded.
I strongly prefer being in the world, I said.
Naturally, and so do I. That is why we were
chosen for this route. They know exactly what you
are good for, Germain, even when you are an
extremely young child, and they never, ever, try to
go against the grain and groom you into a different
person. They never make a mistake, either. That is
one reason why your studies were supervised by
Master Li and Rabbi Mordechai, both of whom
serve in the world, dealing with all the important
political and economic issues, and are not living
on a remote mountain top.
I have so much to learn, I said. I have been

studying since I was a young child, as I am sure


you have, too, and yet, the sheer amount of things I
have to learn seem to have no end.
It will all become easier once you join the Pres
du Triangle, you will see. The early stage will be
over, and true apprenticeship will begin. Anyway,
here is the plan. You take the plane, and at your
arrival at the airport, they will come to pick you
up.
Airport? Where am I going?
To Ethiopia, said my friend. How early can you
leave?
Next week, I said. Dont I get a name or an
address, in case they forget to pick me up?
No, they will not forget. They will tell you all you
need to do in preparation for the presentation, and
the initiation that will follow. Once you get the
airline ticket, by the way, let me know the flight
number. Ill arrange with them to pick you up.
They are secretive, I said.
They have to be, Germain. But there is one thing
they will allow me to tell you. Should anything
happen to you, and you need help, always start by

drawing a triangle, either on paper or simply on


the ground. Also, when you shake hands, do it in a
specific way which I am going to show you when I
get up to leave. I cant do it now because shaking
hands at the table will attract attention, but when
we part, it will look perfectly normal, so pay close
attention.
Its almost theatrical, I said. Like a film about
spies. Why so much drama and subterfuge? Arent
you a very strong organization? What are you
afraid of?
Of course we are a very strong
organization, and there are many of us around, but
secrecy is most important. If we were less
secretive, we would achieve much less.
I gave up. He would not tell me more, so we
talked a little longer, finished our coffee and
dessert, and no one would have suspected that we
were anything other than two young men meeting
briefly for a chat and a snack. When we got up to
leave, he showed me the special handshake,
looking perfectly natural as he did so, and then I
went home to make my preparations for the trip

that would, one more time, cause a great change in


my life.

The plane landed in Addis Ababa. After


going through customs, I stepped into the main hall
of the airport and looked around for the person
who was to take me to my hotel. I had no idea what
to expect, but apparently the guide knew exactly
what I looked like, since almost instantly I was
approached by a tall, thin, middle-aged gentleman.
He greeted me politely in perfect French, and
seeing my surprise, explained that he was not an
Ethiopian, but was born and raised in Senegal,
where of course they speak French. I said,
Hopefully, one day we can converse in your
language.
What language is that? he asked, his face
completely expressionless.
Why, Anakh, of course. The language of
the Ulema. Arent you an Ulema?
No, he said curtly, and conducted me to the
car that stood outside. The driver was standing

against it, smoking a cigarette while waiting, and


greeted me politely. As we drove to the hotel, my
guide told me that he was a retired captain from the
Senegalese army, and in his extreme youth, served
in the Foreign Legion. It was clear that he had a
life of high adventure, and I hoped he would tell
me more, but we soon came to the hotel. For a
small and rather boring town, it was a beautiful,
modern building.
I would recommend that you rest for a few
hours, Mr. Lumire. Then, with your permission, I
will pick you up at eight oclock and we will go to
dinner. I thanked him, and as he left, I was taken
to my room. The hotel was extremely comfortable
and done in the European style, and after the long
trip and the heat outside it was nice to take my
shower and rest in the cool, pleasant room.
At eight oclock, I was already waiting for
my guide in the lobby, and he came, accompanied
by his wife. A very elegant woman, she had the
most amazing long neck that lent her an air of
supreme grace. She was beautifully dressed, and
on both her arms she wore a large number of

colorful bracelets made from various metals. The


bracelets created a twinkling sound and a rainbow
of color whenever she moved her arms. My guide
introduced us, and told me that his wife, in her
youth, was a show business superstar in her
country. Also, when she visited NY, she took a
major part in one of the productions of Ziegfeld
Follies. She smiled and said, Its all in the past,
the glamour is over, I am a business woman now,
though she did not elaborate on her business, I
could see this was a high powered individual,
much like her husband.
They took me to a lovely restaurant with live
entertainment, and we had a wonderful dinner,
chatting about French music, my hosts visits to
Paris, and other pleasant but general subjects. Only
once my guide surprised me by saying something
totally unexpected. I saw him looking intently at
some people who entered the restaurant, and he
shook his head and said, very quietly, I hope
everything will be okay. Do you know, Mr.
Lumire, I heard on the grapevine that there may be
a coup dtat against the Emperor Haile

Selassie I hope this is wrong. I did not know


what to say, so I just nodded in agreement. During
the entire evening, nothing was said about my
upcoming meeting with the Pres du Triangle.
It was quite late at night when my hosts took
me back to the hotel. My guides wife stayed in the
car as he escorted me to the front door. He shook
my hand, and to my utter amazement, gave me the
special handshake sign. I stated at him. Why, then,
did you tell me you were not an Ulema? I asked
bluntly.
An Ulema does not say I am an Ulema,
because the word is not even a noun, said my
guide. It is an adjective, a description, and also a
compliment, a form of recognition that should be
given by others, not oneself.
Thank you, I said. I get it. I see. That
was the first lesson in modesty by the Pres du
Triangle. It was a hard lesson to take because I
realized how much I have to control myself and
keep my mouth shut, and I felt foolish. I was
embarrassed to think that the first thing I did,
meeting this person who was so important to me,

was to reveal my ignorance and do what should not


be done ask unnecessary and unwelcome
questions. Then, in a flash, I realized that our
dinner was my first test. It was clear that I passed
this test, because my guide said, rather pleasantly,
that someone will pick me up the next day at four
oclock in the afternoon. Had I not passed, he
would have directed me to return to France. But
from this moment on, I planned on being much
more on my guard. I thanked him and entered the
hotel, still musing. Yes, since early childhood, I
was told again and again never to ask questions.
Open your eyes, open your ears, pay attention,
learn but do not ask questions. All of them,
Master Li, Mordechai, even my old friend Taj, told
me that I ask too many questions. Well, this was the
first time anyone brought to my attention the nature
of the word Ulema as an adjective. This was very
interesting. I will make sure to remember that.
The next day, at four oclock exactly, two people
came for me. One looked more important than the
other, and walked slightly ahead of him. He shook
my hand, smiling broadly in a most good-natured

way. He was middle-aged, white man, around fifty


or fifty- five, of middle height, and spoke French
though it was clearly not his native tongue. The
first thing he said, after introducing himself as Dr.
Farid, was a considerable surprise to me. I did not
expect anyone to say, Mr. Lumire, we have been
waiting for you for ten years! This was a strain on
my newly adopted self control, but I managed to
ask no questions. I thanked him for his kindness
and left things as they were, but I must admit I was
stunned. He saw the astonishment on my face, and
said pleasantly, Any questions? I said, No, no
questions. He repeated, No questions? and I
said again, No, no questions. This, of course,
was another code. When you insisted that you had
no questions, you have identified yourself with the
Ulema. He nodded, and escorted me to his car,
saying that we are going to the Lodge.
To my own surprise, I felt perfectly calm. As we
settled to our short trip, the other person doing the
driving, my guide gave me his business card. The
card indicated that Dr. Farid was the former
president of the Syndicate of Foreign

Correspondents. So he was a journalist by trade.


We chatted for the next twenty or twenty-five
minutes, and finally arrived at an old building,
perfectly ordinary with nothing special to mark it,
standing in a nondescript street. Most of the houses
had three or four stories, were sand-colored or
painted in other drab, neutral colors, and a few had
the distinguishing mark of doors that looked like
arches. The street was dusty, had very few
passers-by or cars, and there were palm trees here
and there.
We entered into a mid-size foyer, and from there,
passed through a black wooden door and
encountered two corridors, one to the right and one
to the left. We turned right, and walked to another
room, where a man was sitting behind a desk. He
looked at me with the bored air that all official
clerks share, no matter which country they come
from, and asked me to fill out a form with very
ordinary personal information. Once this important
task was accomplished, he stamped the form with
two different inks, and pulling out a canvas bag,
none too clean, requested that I leave with him any

rings, watches, wallet, belt, suspenders, glasses, or


anything else that could be defined as an extra. I
was not happy to surrender my very expensive
platinum watch, so delicate and thin, particularly
when I saw the man toss everything rather
carelessly into a bag, but I managed to keep quiet.
During these annoying procedures, which kept my
attention riveted on the man with his forms, his
attitude, and his commands, Dr. Farid vanished. I
ventured to ask the man where did Dr. Farid go,
but he answered casually that I will soon see him
again, and would I please step into one more room
and wait.
The procedure was beginning to bother me. I
expected to be awed, amazed, and even frightened
by the grandeur of the organization I had heard so
much about. Instead, I was harassed and bored.
Here I was, important enough to be initiated into a
secret organization that was feared and respected;
Dr. Farid told me that they were waiting for me for
ten years, so obviously I had some importance in
their eyes. So what the hell was going on? Why
would they treat me like some refugee who wished

to settle in Ethiopia?
The room I sat in was quite austere, paneled
with dark wood. I was sitting on one of the many
wooden chairs that stood around the room, and in
the middle there was a coffee table with nothing on
it, not even old magazines or newspapers. A
typical waiting room that could be placed in any
country in the world. I had nothing to do, so I
amused myself by looking at a row of pictures that
hung on the wall. All the illustrations were of three
kinds symbols that I did not recognize, historical
places or monuments from all over the world, and
landscapes. Not a single portrait hung on this wall.
I found the lack of portraits reassuring. In
government offices you will always find pictures
of heads of state. In religious organizations you
will find the Pope or the archbishop or the Lama or
the Buddha. Someone is always adored and
revered, but here it was refreshingly clear that this
was not the case and no one was revered, at least
in this waiting room. Much later I asked Dr. Farid
why there were no human portraits hanging on their
walls. His answer was very much to the point, and

quite humbling: We are not worth looking at, Mr.


Lumire, he said.
I had plenty of time to muse about the nature of the
pictures, because they kept me waiting for half an
hour. I dont like to wait, finding it irritating and
somewhat insulting, and usually I would get up and
request an explanation to what I tend to perceive as
a slight. Not this time, though. I adhered to my
decision to be patient, keep my eyes open, learn all
I could, and ask no questions. I suspected, quite
rightly, that I was being watched and perhaps
tested again, so I made myself comfortable in my
chair, showed no signs of impatience, and did my
best to present an attitude of calm and relaxation. I
think it worked, because after thirty minutes I heard
a voice. Welcome, welcome, the door is open,
please come in!
I got up and went to one more room, where a
physician and a man who I assumed, wrongly, was
his assistant, were waiting for me. The physician
introduced himself, and ran a quick check-up on
me. I submitted to the checkup without saying
anything, and he said, You are in good shape.

Good luck! and left the room. The guide remained


with me and said, Well, Mr. Lumire, do sit
down. I am your guide in this event. I will now
instruct you as to what is about to happen.
Finally, its about time, I said to myself, but did
not express the thought verbally. I was rather
pleased with my self control.
Please pay close attention to what I have to tell
you, said the guide. You have two minutes at
your disposal for the one last option to change your
mind, go back to the hotel, and return to France.
This is because if you choose to remain here and
go behind the door in front of us, this is it you
will enter a different world. You will be asked to
give an oath of allegiance and loyalty to the
organization, and you must give up any other
affiliation, political, national, or religious.
I am aware of that, sir, I said, and I am willing
to give my oath.
Very well, said the guide. Would you please
follow me? By now, I was led through so many
rooms and corridors, I have completely lost my
bearings, and I strongly suspected that it was a

deliberate attempt to disorient me. Again, I found


this a tiresome clich, and wondered if anything
inspiring will ever happen here. Before we go,
however, you must give me your shoes, jacket, tie,
and socks, unbutton a few buttons on your shirt,
and roll up your sleeves. I was always extremely
careful of my appearance, and did not like the idea
of presenting myself to the Pres du Triangle
looking like that. Besides, in France, that is how
they treat criminals. If I did not know any better, I
thought, I would think they were about to hang me.
The guide saw my disgusted expression and said,
What is wrong, Mr. Lumire? I said, I dont
mean to be difficult, sir, but I feel like a fool,
looking like a refugee, when I am expecting to be
presented to a most distinguished organization on
which I was hoping to make a good impression.
No, no, Mr. Lumire, said the guide
quietly. You are neither a fool nor a refugee.
Rather, you are a pilgrim. I realized how right he
was and my irritation disappeared. I was a little
embarrassed by what was lesson number two in
modesty given to me in Ethiopia. Most

important, the guide continued, whatever


happens inside, dont panic. Stay calm. That was
much better, more like the excitement I was
expecting. The guide took a piece of cloth out of
his pocket. I have to tie this band around your
eyes, Mr. Lumire. You must be blindfolded during
the ceremony. This was unpleasant, but I said
nothing. After blindfolding me, he walked me to
the door I saw before on the far side of the room,
and knocked three times, opened the door, and led
me in. I felt a chill, as the room I entered was much
colder than the small room we left.
I had no idea what to expect, so I stood
quietly in my place and waited. I had the sensation,
without seeing anything, that the room was large
and packed with people, but I could not be sure.
My mood changed. I no longer felt I was
experiencing a set of clichs, the atmosphere
somehow had different vibrations. A deep voice,
which I assumed belonged to one of the officials,
said slowly and calmly: Please state your name.
I did, and realized to my annoyance that my voice
trembled a little. The voice said, Are you ready to

join Zawiyah (corner)? the guide whispered to me


Say yes, and I did so. The question was repeated
two more times, and each time I said, Yes. Even
in my state of excitement I realized that the three
corners represented the shape of the Triangle. They
rarely say the word Triangle, by the way, in the
outside world, preferring to refer to its corners as
the representatives of the shape.
The guide said, Start walking straight up,
Ill tell you when to stop. I started walking,
stumbling a little since I could not see, and after a
few steps he said, Now turn left, stop, and take
off your shirt. I did as I was commanded, feeling
like the humblest beginner despite my years of
Ulema studies, and I imagine that this was the
intention of the exercise. Besides, I felt
unpleasantly chilly. I turned two more times,
following, again the shape of the Triangle. Now,
he said, Stand still.
A man came from somewhere and stood in
front of me, so close, that I could feel his presence
even if he did not talk. How old are you? he
asked abruptly.

I am twenty-five, I said.
No, he said. From this moment on, when
asked for your age, say that your are three.
Obviously, this was a code. Yes, sir, I said.
What is your favorite flower? he asked.
I really cant think I said, surprised. A
flower? What did a flower have to do with it?
From this moment on, your favorite flower is
the white rose, said the man. I nodded in
agreement and said nothing.
What is your fathers name? he asked.
My fathers name was Charles, I said.
No, he said. From this moment on, when
asked for your fathers name, say that it is Hiram.
Hiram? I knew Hiram, the Phoenician king, from
the Bible. What was he doing here?
Now, he commanded, Repeat everything
we have talked about.
When asked for my age, I say I am three, my
favorite flower is the white rose, and my fathers
name is Hiram, I said. The man did not answer,
but suddenly I felt something touching me on the
shoulder. It could have been a stick, a baton, or a

sword, I did not know, but the sudden touch, when


my nerves were so much on edge, made me jump. I
suppressed it and stood still.
Do you swear to respect the word of the
Triangle? he said.
I swear, I said.
Do you swear that you will never reveal the
secrets to the unworthy?
I swear.
Do you swear that you will use all the
knowledge you will gain for humanitys
good?
I swear.
Do you swear to treat people fairly and
equally no matter what part of the world they
come from?
I swear.
Kneel, he said. I did.
Close your eyes, he said. I thought, they
are closed and covered with the band, what exactly
does he want? As if reading my mind, he added,
Close your eyes to the external world. I
understood the meaning and remained quiet.

Extend your hands in front of you. I did.


Suddenly, I smelled wax, and felt a sensation
of heat that almost burned my hands, and then was
swiftly gone. I was pleased that I controlled myself
and did not withdraw my hands. That was thanks to
the early Ulema training. The man poured a little
water on my head, and then took the band off my
eyes.
I opened my eyes, and slightly dazed from
the blindfold and my state of nerves, looked around
me. I was standing in the middle of an immense
hall with a ceiling so high you could hardly see it.
The hall was dark. Very little light came through
stained glass windows, very high up, depicting
pictures of the Ethiopian legend of the connection
of its kings to the Biblical King Solomon and the
Queen of Sheba. A myriad of candles burned
everywhere, on benches, in niches on the walls,
and in large candelabras that stood on the floor, but
the space was so huge that the candles did little to
illuminate it. About a hundred people, perhaps
even more, were sitting on very elegant silk velour
chairs and benches, impeccably dressed in black.

All of them stood up and said in unison,


Welcome, Germain, and the sound coming from
so many people was like a muffled thunder around
the room. I stared at them, still stunned, and
recognized a few extremely important people who
held powerful positions in the world. I said
nothing, and the guide took me to a bench that was
reserved for the newly initiated members. Sit
down, he said.
As soon as I sat on the bench, everyone sat
down. I heard three knocks on the door, it opened,
and another young man, his eyes covered with a
band, was led by his guide to undergo his own
initiation. There were to be three initiations, and I
found out later that this was usually the case, the
three, of course, representing the Triangle.
At this point I was no longer feeling much
stress, and rather enjoyed watching the initiations
of the two men who followed me. To my relief,
they seemed to be just as apprehensive and
disturbed by it as I was. I saw that the fire that
burned my hands was a torch held by the
officiating man and passed quickly over them.

The water was poured over the initiates


head came from a silver urn, beautifully carved,
and the object that touched my shoulder and
startled me was a silver sword. I looked at the
members, and saw that a man who I assumed to be
the Grand Master was sitting on an elevated chair,
dressed in a white tunic. He was flanked by two
urns filled with white roses, and two enormous
candelabras.
At the end of the last initiation, the three of
us were asked to stand up in front of the Grand
Masters chair. I looked at his hawk-like face, and
realized that this was what I though a
representative of the Pres du Triangle should look
like, dark, mysterious, slightly threatening. He
stood up, approached us, asked us a question:
Were you afraid?
Yes, we said in unison.
You see, he said, We are always afraid of
that which we dont know. He raised his finger,
pointed at us, and said, Enemy No. One is fear.
Enemy No. Two is ignorance. Enemy No. Three is
Greed. From this moment on, never have anything

to do with fear, ignorance, and greed. He sat back


in his chair, and looked at us majestically and
silently.
The guide, still by my side, said to me:
Bow, politely, in reverence. I did, and the guide
led me out of the room. I do not know where the
other two initiates went.
Lets go and get your clothes and your other
things, said the guide casually.
Is that it? I asked.
Yes, thats it, said the guide, walking ahead
of me through these interminable corridors
and rooms.
But I was told about an examination, and
that they would ask many questions, I said. The
examination was to precede the initiation, I
thought.
They did, he said simply.
What do you mean? I asked.
You will figure it out on your own, he
said. Later, after much thinking, I realized that they
were aware of the exact extent of my development
and knowledge, that the Master and Rabbi

Mordechai were always in touch with them, and


basically, they knew all they needed to know
before they allowed the initiation to take place in
the first place. But at that moment, I was too
confused to figure anything out. I still felt like a
novice.
So what is going to happen to me now? I
asked, breaking my decision not to ask any
questions. But the guide was understanding.
Mr. Lumire, he said, You are now one of
us. You are no longer a novice or an aspirant. You
will be learning a great deal now, many secrets
and techniques. All is open to you, everything we
have, you are on an equal footing.
So when do I get back to France? I asked,
mistakenly assuming that he was referring to
some studies in Ethiopia.
Its up to you, anytime you want, your
business here is done, he said.
So I go back to Paris. How will I get in
touch with the Lodge there?
We are all over the world, with two places
in France. I would suggest that you contact your

friend Bertrand, who had acted as our liaison, and


of course your own teacher, Rabbi Mordechai. You
will never lack for support, Mr. Lumire. We now
entered a small, empty room, with only a desk on
which my clothes and accessories were piled up.
Well, here are all your things, he said. I will let
you get dressed, and you can leave through this
door. It was a great pleasure meeting you, and I am
sure we shall meet again soon. I thanked him and
he went back through the door we came into this
room. I put on my clothes and was relieved to see
that my watch was not destroyed by the rough
treatment. I looked at it, and realized that I have
spent about three hours at the Lodge.
I left through the door he indicated, and to
my surprise found myself in a totally unknown
street. It was certainly not the entrance I used to get
in. I had no idea how to get back to the hotel, and
the street was small, primitive, and empty. I
knocked on the door I just left, which I had closed
behind myself, but there was no answer.
I looked around in desperation. Having been
taken there by a car, I did not know how I got to the

lodge, and anyway, it was a twenty minutes ride


that went through complicated little roads. What
was I to do? Suddenly a saw an old man coming
toward me, carrying a huge stack of bread on his
head. I signaled him and tried to make him
understand what I was looking for.
We did not speak the same language, but he
understood when I asked for a taxi, and shook his
head to express his inability to supply me with one.
Then I mentioned the name of the hotel, and he
smiled broadly and took me to another street,
nearby, where a dilapidated, dirty, violet and green
bus was standing.
I thanked him, gave him some coins, and
tried to talk to the driver, but he did not speak
French either. However, when I handed him some
money he motioned to me to sit down. The bus was
entirely empty, but after a short wait he took me
back to the hotel.
I decided I must invite the Senegalese
gentleman and his wife to dinner before I leave,
but that was the only obligation I had to carry on,
and after that I went back to France. I spent,

altogether, five days in Addis Ababa. Normally I


would have been interested in visiting interesting
spots in the country, but this time I was anxious to
get home and speak to Bertrand about my
experience.
A few days later, Bertrand and I met.
It was impressive, wasnt it? he asked.
Very impressive, I said. Not the first hour
or so, but later, the initiation, was awe-inspiring.
But there was no examination.
Of course there was, said Bertrand. Your
entire life was a preparation, and the final test was
your reactions to the charade of room, and
corridors, and waiting, and stupid clichs. You
passed.
So I was right in my suspicions, I thought.
Ah, well, I might as well let it go. So what now?
I asked him.
Now you go back to your studies with
Rabbi Mordechai, and he will start teaching you
all the techniques and practices you will need for
later assignments. In addition, you can attend the

meetings of the Lodge in Paris.


Speaking of the Lodge, the one in Addis
Ababa was strange. When I saw the Lodge from
the outside, it seemed such a small place from the
outside, but from the inside it was very large.
Probably it was connected to another
building, and also may have had a lot of space
underground, he said.
I had some trouble getting back to the hotel,
and I dont really know the address of the Lodge,
I said.
It does not matter in the least, said
Bertrand. You see, it is not a permanent Lodge.
They choose a country to fit the studies of the new
initiate, rent a place for the purpose, and after the
initiation is over, most of the time they will vacate
the premises. You will never have any business
there again, so knowing the address is not
important.
You were right, by the way, about the
choice they made for me for serving in the world,
rather than being an ascetic recluse. That Lodge
seemed very worldly, and I saw some important

people there whom I have recognized. Extremely


well known, I should say.
Of course. Eventually, you may be initiated
by other Lodges, as needed. You are now Rank 3.
There are also Rank 8, 18, 31, and 33, so
obviously there are many levels and roads. In the
meantime, you should start, as I said, by going to
the meetings. They get together every Thursday,
and I will give you the address, and come with you
for the first time, if you like, do some
introductions. Some meetings are reserved for only
a few high-ranking individuals, but the Thursday
meetings are open to all of us. Possibly you will
meet some members of the Cabinet and
ambassadors. And oh, yes, get in touch with Rabbi
Mordechai.
Of course I will, I said. I had a strong
suspicion that it will not be necessary, that when I
get home, that very evening, I will find that he had
already sent me a letter, in which he would direct
me as to what to do next. I was right the letter
was sitting in the mail box. Dear Germain, it
said. Congratulations on the Initiation, it is a great

achievement and I am sure it was fun as well. You


must tell me all about the tricks they played in the
Ethiopian Lodge it is not always the same tricks,
you know, though they always excel in their sense
of drama. But getting back to the real business of
life, take a little time now to finish your doctorate
degree, which of course will be very fast and easy,
and also try to attend a few Thursday meetings
whenever you have the time. Then, come back to
Budapest. We shall get down to some real work
its time to learn everything that will start you on
your way to the big, huge, fascinating, interesting,
entertaining life I have promised you! Well have a
great time!

*** *** ***

Lesson Six
Finding Your Lucky Day and Hour of the Week,
Using the Anunnaki-Ulema Calendar

Humans follow certain calendars. The most


common one is the Gregorian Calendar, which is a
reflection of the Christian faith. It is younger than
the Muslim calendar, which in turn, is younger than
the Jewish calendar. All of these are considerably
younger than the Anunnaki calendar, which is the
only one used by the Anunnaki-Ulema.
The Anunnaki-Ulema reject the idea that the week
consists of seven days. Their week consists of four
days, corresponding to certain days of our week.
These are the only days to use in this technique,
and the other three days in our week should not be
calculated upon.

The Ulema-Anunnaki days are:


Day 1: Thilta (Tuesday)

Day 2: Araba (Wednesday)


Day 3: Jema (Friday)
Day 4: Saba (Saturday).

The importance of these days is the relationship


between the person and the hours in each day.
Using the calendar of the Anunnaki-Ulema, each
person can find the luckiest hour of his or her
week.
You might feel that one hour a week is not
sufficient for anyones needs. It might also not
improve your luck at work if it occurs, say, at two
oclock in the morning each Saturday.
This predicament can be easily resolved by
performing another technique, Time Manipulation,
on that exact hour. The time that will be added to
your life under such circumstances will be as lucky
as the original hour, and your chances of success
will be vastly improved. The Anunnaki-Ulema
highly recommend performing a combination of
techniques, since each enhances the other
considerably.

A couple of questions might arise as you work with


this technique. First, are all people with the same
number of letters in their name share a lucky hour?
Yes, indeed they would. There are only sixteen
grid lines to represent millions of people each.
And this leads to an interesting discovery. The
numbers of letters in peoples names represent a
certain harmony that exist between them. For
example, if you wish to approach someone in high
places for a favor, finding that he or she shares the
number of letters and the lucky hour will enhance
your chances. Always send your request to him or
her during the lucky hour, either calling on the
phone, using your e-mail, or placing a written
letter in the mailbox.
Another question is the issue of languages. What if
your name is written with four letters in America,
where you now live, but with five letters in another
language, the one from your native country? The
answer is simple. Always use your native
language, the language that you were first aware of
your name in, in your grid. It is imprinted on you,
and so will be much more accurate and certainly

more powerful.
An important fact to add is that this technique is
simple, but it can be enhanced in many ways by
subtle variations. Adding those variations, which
will be dealt with in future books, extends the
knowledge of how time and space is related to
luck and success, and how to fine tune the process.
But even in this straightforward version, the
technique is incredibly powerful, so much so that it
may change your life completely, always for the
better.

Tip: If any added numbers are higher than one


digit, always add the numbers and use the result.
For example, if instead of 3+1+1+1= 6 you will
find yourself with, say, 4+7+7+7=25, add 2+5 and
use the result, namely 7. If you have
40+41+42+43=126, add 1+2+6=9.

The first step is to prepare a grid of sixteen


squares, like the one below.

In the next step, you will establish the calendar of


the week, by writing them in this specific order.

Grid 1
Day
Day 2 Day 3 Day 4
1
Day 2 Day 3 Day 4 Day 1
Day 3 Day 4 Day 1 Day 2
Day 4 Day 1 Day 2 Day 3
In the next step, you will establish the calendar of
your name. Lets say your name is Suzan. You will
write your name in the squares, but you must write
from right to left, the way they did in many ancient
languages, including Anakh. Then, you follow,
still from right to left, with the number of the days,
1, 2, 3, 4.

Grid 2

AZUS
3 2 1 N
Z US 4
2 1 NA

In the next step, you will establish the calendar of


your lucky hour. Look at the two squares above,
and try to find the one square that has the same
number in both drawings. When you compare each
square, you will see that the second square in the
last raw has the #1 in it. Fill in the number of the
days in the first row, the way it appeared in the
first grid.
Therefore, Suzans lucky hour will occur
during the second day. (If more than one square
presents the same number, add the numbers.)

Grid 3
Day Day
Day 3 Day 4
1 2

In the next step, we shall start our calculations.


Keep the first row as is, and fill the rest of the grid
with the number 1. In each column, you will now
subtract the three #1 from the day in the first row.
1-1-1-1= -2; 2-1-1-1= -1; 3-1-1-1= 0; 4-1-1-1 = 1

Grid 4
Day Day
Day 3 Day 4
1 2
1

1
-2 -1 0 1

We will now add the number we have calculated.


(-2) + (-1) + 0 + 1 = (-2)
We continue our calculations by using the number
we have achieved, -2, as a filler in the grid below,
in three rows under the basic days row on top.
Then, we will calculate the values of the columns
the way we have done in the previous grid.

Grid 5
Day 1 Day 2 Day 3 Day 4
-2

-2

-2

-2

-2

-2

-2

-2

-2

-2

-2

-2
-5 -4 -3 -2

We will add these numbers: (-5) + (-4) + (-3) +


(-2) = -14

We will combine the individual numbers


comprising the number fourteen by adding them: 1+
4=5
We will add these two numbers. (-14) + 5 = -9

In the next step, return to the first grid, displaying


the calendar of the week. Starting on the second

row, count the squares, going from right to left,


nine times. You will reach Day 3. This establishes
that your lucky hour will occur on Friday, the third
day of the Anunnaki week.

To establish the hour, go back to Grid 4, and look


at the row that expresses Day 3. Add the numbers:
3+1+1+1=6
Calculate: (-9) - (+6) = -3
To establish the hour within the 24 hours in each
day subtract, 24 3 = 21.
21 is 9 P.M.
Therefore, Suzans luckiest hour of the week
occurs at nine oclock in the evening of each
Friday.

*** *** ***

Chapter Seven
Anakh: The Language of the
Anunnaki
Return to Budapest
A daunting list of techniques
The nature of the Conduit
Time manipulation
An exciting invitation from Dr. Farid
The history and nature of Anakh
Linguistics and ambassadorial duties as a
future expertise
Practicing the magical techniques
Lesson Seven: Moving Objects by Using
Mental Powers.

I did as I was told. I stayed around in Paris to


complete my doctorate degree, and also attended a
number of Thursday meetings at the Lodge of the
Pres du Triangle. The meetings at the Lodge were
extremely interesting. On my first visit, Bernard
introduced me to a number of important and
influential people, and I was amazed, as time went
on, as to how much influence the organization
exercised in France or indeed the world. It was
an education in itself.
Once I finished my studies, I went back to
Budapest to study practical Anunnaki-Ulema
techniques with Rabbi Mordechai. His plan was to
teach me many techniques, and at the same time,
evaluate my future plans for the activities for the
Pres du Triangle. Much depended on which
direction I will prove most valuable for my future
work, though it was already decided, years ago,
that my road was going to take me toward the
diplomatic service, much like Master Li. Rabbi
Mordechai wanted me to complete my education in

three to six months, so much had to be crammed


into this time frame. Still, despite the hard work,
life with Rabbi Mordechai was always pleasant,
and it was nice to settle in my old room, work all
day at Rabbi Mordechais well-stocked and
eclectic library, and take our evening walk when
the work was done, as was our routine.
The first evening after I came, Rabbi Mordechai
said casually, as we were having dinner, So,
Germain, I imagine you want to know what
techniques I am about to teach you.
Yes, of course, I said. I am looking forward to
it.
A lot of them are fun, said Rabbi Mordechai,
dipping his flatbread into a dish of hummus served
with mixed pickles. He made a Middle Eastern
dinner, the best I had in years. But some of them
are harder than others. Therefore, I think the best
way to approach our studies is to start with a
technique that will allow you to control and
manipulate time, and so make the study time much
shorter.
That will be very nice, I said. I had already

partially enjoyed it, since my doctorate degree was


accomplished with greater ease and speed after
you helped me with the opening of the Conduit.
The new technique will enable you to work much,
much faster. People will suspect you are working
at a supernatural speed.
Which I will, wont I? I said. Wouldnt you call
these techniques supernatural?
That depends as to what you call supernatural, I
suppose. People use this word whenever they
encounter something they do not understand. As far
as I am concerned, nothing that we see or do is
supernatural. My motto is, if something exists, it is,
therefore, natural; otherwise, it would not exist.
The expression supernatural seems to me to be
meaningless, said Rabbi Mordechai.
I considered that. That sounds right, I said.
Well, what are the techniques you plan to teach
me?
I think all you will need for your future work and
personal advancement is comprised in this list, he
said, pulling out a piece of paper from his pocket.
Why not take it with you when you go to bed, and

read it at your leisure? Now, since we have


finished dinner, we may want to take a little walk.
I took the list, put it in my pocket, and opened it
only when I went to bed. I have to admit I was
startled when I saw the number of subjects I was
supposed to learn in such a short time. Even with
the time manipulation, I suspected that it will not
be easy. I am reproducing the list here.

1. Learning a new language in less than two


hours.
2. Seeing very clearly in the dark.
3. Controlling the heart rhythm/speed.
4. Reading others thoughts.
5. Seeing others aura.
6. Stopping external bleeding instantly.
7. Seeing a certain number of future events.
(Not predicting!)
8. Fully controlling physical pain.
9. Looking young (approximately 37)
permanently.
Stopping
the
physical
appearances of aging.

10. Sensing and understanding bad and good


vibes, and how to block the effects of
negative vibes.
11. Moving objects at distance.
12. Teleportation.
13. Traversing solid objects, such as walls.
14. Finishing multiple tasks fifty times faster
than others.
15. Recovering from injuries in an amazing
speed.
16. Influencing others in decision making,
though only for a good purpose.
17. Controlling electrical and electronic
supplies and gadgets to a large degree.
18. Reading a big book in minutes.
19. Acquiring the healing touch.
20. Communicating through telepathy (sending
and receiving messages).
21. Entering and exiting parallel dimensions.
22. Communicating with the Double.
23. Communicating with a deceased person
during the 40 days period following his/her
death.

24. Communicating with animals.


25. Partially changing the molecular
properties of objects and substances.

The list was daunting. Also, while some of the


techniques seemed to be extremely useful, I was
wondering why I needed so many other techniques,
that seemed purely spiritual, for a life of work in
diplomacy. But I had learned my lesson I was not
going to ask such a question or any questions
whatsoever. I would take the instructions and act
like a sophisticated Ulema, absorbing all that I was
taught. Having settled that, I turned over and went
to sleep.

So, good morning, said Rabbi Mordechai


next morning, as I entered the library. He was
busily copying something from an ancient
manuscript, probably made of papyrus. What did

you think of the list? he asked.


Fascinating, I said. Covers everything I
can possibly imagine.
Yes, unless we decide that something must
be added as we move along, I think the list is
pretty complete, said Rabbi Mordechai. We will
start, as we discussed, with time manipulation. You
see, much of the preparation of the Conduit was
already accomplished, in your case, over the years
of study.
In what way? I asked.
You have absorbed certain rules, certain
techniques, since early childhood, even when not
aware of it. These are techniques which are
partially physical and partially mental. You could
refer to them as psychosomatic. But you dont
know how to work with them. As a beginner, even
though your Conduit is now open, you cannot tap
directly into it, because consciously, you dont
even know where it is located in your brain. By
adopting some postures and positions, you will
send sensations to your brain. These positions will
create internal muscular vibrations, and your mind

will read them. You will be sending mental


visionary lines, and these will activate the cell
which is responsible for the imagination. By the
power of concentration and introspection, you will
start to get intensified activity in the brain. This
will cause a buzz vibration in the brain, which the
Conduit will begin to detect. Then, the Conduit
will absorb the vibrations and organize them, and
from that moment on, the Conduit will take over.
To summarize, by attempting certain
activities, you are sending a message to your
Conduit. It will take some time, because at the
beginning, your Conduit may not catch the
messages, or if it does catch them, may not
interpret the messages correctly, because the
Conduit is not one hundred percent awake. With
practice, the Conduit becomes familiar with these
type of messages, and it begins to give them codes.
Each activity would have its own code.
One thing must be understood from the start.
You cannot do these techniques to amuse yourself,
since they simply will not work unless there is a
purpose to the activity, and it must be a beneficial,

positive purpose. But I think you are already well


aware that there is nothing frivolous about our
work.
Yes, of course, I said.
I would like you to read this manuscript,
he said, handing me the sheet of paper on which he
was writing as I came in. Let your mind absorb
the content. It is written concisely, and we can
discuss the fine points later. I will leave you to it
and come back in about an hour.
I settled in one of the comfortable armchairs,
and started reading. I will reproduce the sheet
exactly as it was written. As we went along with
our studies, all the techniques were taught to me
like that, first reading each techniques on my own,
then discussing it with Rabbi Mordechai, then
practicing it. Each was imprinted on my brain
forever.

Time Manipulation

Human beings treat time as if it were linear.


Day follows day, year follows year, and task
follows task. The Anunnaki-Ulema, however, have
long ago learned how to treat time nonlinearly, and
thus be able to accomplish more in their lives. It
would be beneficial if you could manipulate time
in such a way as to be faster than normal people,
and this is what we are going to do with the help of
the forthcoming exercise.
To perform this exercise, one must have
complete privacy. Also, You must remember that
ones consciousness changes under the influence of
the exercise to such an extent that a mother, for
instance, would not hear her children if they call
her. So the exercise cannot be done while young
children are at home. If you are taking care of an ill
or elderly relative, you should not pursue it either.
It cannot be pursued at your place of employment,
because almost all jobs involve the presence of
other people. Therefore, for the purpose of this
exercise, we will choose a simple frame and an
acceptable set of tasks. Lets choose a Saturday,
and select a few tasks. Lets also assume that all of

the tasks must be done on Saturday, because on


Sunday you are expecting to be busy with other
things. You have, in short, seven hours. Lets
assume you have chosen these tasks:
You have to drive your spouse to the airport.
You have committed yourself to your boss,
promising that you will write a report of a
hundred pages or so for Monday.
You want to shop for food for the week.
This is quite a lot to do in the seven hours allotted
for the tasks. The trip to the airport would take
about an hour. The shopping will take about an
hour and a half. As for the report, it looks like it
should take at least ten hours. So obviously some
of the things you wanted to do will not get done.
But the Anunnaki-Ulema say that all these things
can be done if you learn to break the mold of linear
time.

Equipment

For this technique, you will need a few props:


A round net. It can be anything a fishing
net, a crochet tablecloth, anything made of
thread or yarn with perforations. It can even
be a piece of cloth in which you cut enough
holes to make it look like a net. It should be
around four feet in diameter.
Paper
Pencil
Scissors
Technique

Since one of the tasks involves taking your


spouse to the airport, work on the preliminary
preparations behind a closed door, so your
spouse, who is still at home, will not be a
witness to your activities.
Look intently at the net, and memorize the
way it looks, so that you can easily visualize
it.
Close your eyes and visualize the net.

In your mind, draw a large circle on the net.


In your mind, let the net float in the air,
making sure it is not flat and horizontal, but
moving, bending, waving, and drifting in a
vertical position most of the time.
In your mind, concentrate on the three tasks
you wish to accomplish.
In your mind, represent each task as a hole
that you mentally perforate in the net. Since
you have three tasks, you visualize three
holes.
Open your eyes, pick up the physical net,
and toss it lightly on a chair or a couch
nearby. Do not make it flat and horizontal, just
let it land on the piece of furniture like a
casual throw.
Close your eyes again, and visualize the
holes in the mental net. Look at the holes you
made, visualizing their shape, their edges, and
their exact position on the mental net.
In your mind, throw the mental net on the
physical net.
Take the paper and pencil, and draw three

circles that would match, by their shape and


size, the mental holes you have visualized.
Cut the circles out with the scissors.
Write the description of each task you wish
to perform on the back of one of the circles, a
single task for each circle. If possible, break
the task into segments. For example, if you are
working on the circle that represents the trip
to the airport, write: 1.Take car out of the
garage five minutes. 2. Drive to airport and
drop spouse at the terminal twenty five
minutes. 3. Return home twenty five
minutes. 4. Return car to the garage five
minutes. Do the same for all the tasks.
Put the circles on the physical net and fold it
around them. Tie the top with a ribbon, so the
papers will not fall out, and suspend it on a
hook or a door. It must remain suspended until
the tasks are done, or until the seven hours are
over.
Start with a linear task, which will anchor
you. The most appropriate one is the trip to
the airport, and for this task no Anunnaki-

Ulema powers are used at all. Even though


your Conduit is not open, since you have not
been trained by a master, it is still there and it
can calculate what it needs to do, and how to
partially and gradually squeeze the other tasks
into the frame of seven hours.
When you return home from the airport, you
should start the second task, the shopping.
While you are shopping, the Conduit will
employ a system that will function like two
old-fashioned tape recorders working at the
same time. One tape recorder is working
slowly, about 30 turns per second. The other
tape recorder does 1000 turns a second. They
do not interfere with each other. While you
are shopping, which is represented by the
slow tape recorder, the time you are using is
slower than the time the Conduit is squeezing
in. The Conduit knows how quickly to spin
because you have outlined the tasks and the
time they should take on the circles of paper.
This is, therefore, the way the faster tape
recorder works.

When you return from your shopping trip,


you decide to go to your typewriter to work
on your report. You have to make sure all the
physical parts are working properly: the
typewriter is in good order, the paper you
have is sufficient for typing the entire report,
your ribbon is fresh, and everything on your
desk is in order.
Before you start working on your report,
unplug the telephone, turn off the TV, make
sure nothing is on the stove, and your rooms
door is locked.
Start typing the report.
What will happen now will not be entirely
clear and understandable to you, because you
will be existing, for the duration, on a
different level of vibrations. Everything will
seem, and actually be, faster than you are
accustomed to, including your typing speed.
Your body will function normally, but you
will not be entirely aware of it, and you will
lose your awareness of your physical
surrounding as well.

After working for a while, you will feel


extremely tired, and without much thinking
you will lie down and fall asleep. This is
important, because at this time, it is not your
normal physical faculties that are in control,
but copies of yourself and your double are
handling the job. Unless you are an
enlightened master, it is best to sleep during
such occurrences.
After a while, and the time for that varies
greatly, you will wake up. Naturally, you will
return to the typewriter, feeling again like
yourself, and ready to resume your typing.
You may be stunned to see that the report of a
hundred pages, which you expected to spend
hours upon hours preparing, will be neatly
stacked by your typewriter, completely done.
When you read it, it will be perfectly clear
that it was written by yourself, entirely your
work and your style, including your regular
mistakes and typos, since the doubles do not
edit your work. The only difference is that it
was done with immense speed. This is a

proof positive that you have done the work


personally and did not hallucinate these
occurrences.
Closing the Energy Center
You have created a strong field of energy,
which now must be closed.
Take the net you have suspended, and open it
up.
Take out the paper circles, and cross out the
tasks that have been accomplished.
Fold the net and put it in its accustomed
place.
Throw out the circles.
You have closed the energy center, and your
tasks are done.

I sat for a while absorbing the idea, thinking about


the fine points, then made a quick effort and
memorized the whole thing. In a little while, Rabbi

Mordechai came in, carrying a bag.


I dont think I have anything to ask, Rabbi
Mordechai, I said. I believe I fully understand
this technique.
Very good, said Rabbi Mordechai. And I
assume you have memorized the instructions?
Of course, I said.
In which case, said Rabbi Mordechai, Lets
start! and approaching one of the tables, poured
out the contents of the bag, which included a fine
crocheted white net. I was ready to practice, and I
should report that I mastered the technique right
away. I am very grateful to Rabbi Mordechai for
this newly acquired ability. It has been a great help
to me ever since.

After about six weeks, Rabbi Mordechai


came into the library carrying a letter. I have
exciting and surprising news for you, Germain. Dr.
Farid, your guide from Ethiopia, has written to tell
me that he was promoted to a very high position
within the Pres du Triangle organization and the

Hiram Lodge.
That is wonderful, I said. What is his new
position?
He is the Grand Master of the Lodge in Beirut. He
wrote to me because he knew you were here,
studying, and he wanted my permission to extend
an invitation to you to go to Beirut when you are
done with our studies.
I was surprised. I would not have thought that Dr.
Farid would even remember me. That would be a
very interesting trip, I said, not wishing to ask any
questions as to why Dr. Farid had an interest in me.
More interesting than you think, Germain. He is
offering you a promotion to level 8. I could not
believe my ears; I thought such promotion would
take years.
I dont understand why he would want to do that,
I said.
Only a level 8 can attend a certain lecture that
will take place in Beirut very soon, said Rabbi
Mordechai. The Pres du Triangle think you will
be ready. I agree. Dr. Farid, who had taken a great
interest in you, does not want you to miss it.

What kind of lecture? I asked.


Its not the lecture itself that presents the
restrictions, said Rabbi Mordechai, his blue
green eyes glittering and dancing with amusement.
Its the lecturer who may present the problem.
Only members of level 8 and over are permitted to
meet him.
Really? Who is he? I asked, quite intrigued.
He is an Anunnaki, who is coming straight from
Nibiru, said Rabbi Mordechai. I have to admit I
was rendered speechless by this revelation. I just
stared at him in total disbelief. An Anunnaki? And
I was supposed to meet him? Could that really
happen?
We have to accelerate our studies, said Rabbi
Mordechai. The lecture is two months from now.
We no longer have six months. And whats more,
you have to study Anakh.
Yes, I said, musing. Of course. The Anunnaki
will not lecture in any other language. I wont
understand what he says if I dont know Anakh.
True, and besides, you wont be able to read the
book that Dr. Farid wants you to study.

He wants me to study a book? Which book? I


asked, a vague suspicion surfacing into my mind. I
dismissed the suspicion as stupid, because what
crossed my mind could not possibly be happening.
Not that book it was not possible I looked at
Rabbi Mordechai, feeling the blood draining from
my face and a chill entering my body. Rabbi
Mordechai smiled.
Yes, Germain, you guessed it. The Book of Rama
Dosh. Dr. Farid has the copy in the Lodge.
When I got over my shock, we made a plan. I
would learn Anakh right away, and then complete
the rest of the techniques. If we ran out of time, I
would return to Budapest and finish the studies
after my visit to Beirut.
I will have to give you a short lecture about
Anakh, Germain.
I know very little about it, Rabbi Mordechai. A
lecture will be quite in order. It is, after all, an
alien language.
Yes, I imagine you think it is very difficult
to understand extraterrestrial language, but the truth

is, it is not totally alien, because it was the first


language humans learned to speak. Before that, so
many different quasi-human races could not talk
properly. They looked and acted like apes. No one
knows exactly when humans learned to speak, but
the Anunnaki-Ulema believe that they started about
65,000 years ago. So it is important to learn the
origins of our languages on earth.
A long time ago, extraterrestrials named
Ana.Na.Ki, more commonly known to us as
Anunnaki, landed on earth for the first time, in the
area that was later known as Phoenicia, and also
on the Island that was later named Arwad. Both
places are mentioned in the Bible, the Gnostic
scriptures, the Kabbalah, the Middle Eastern epics,
and in The Book of Rama Dosh.
The Anunnaki observed the ape-like quasi-humans.
As these creatures roamed the earth, they produced
vocal sounds, but did not have a real language. The
Anunnaki captured some of the creatures, and
conducted genetic experiments on them, attempting
to improve the race and its opportunities and
conditions, and to help the ape-like beings develop

a language. Their aim was not entirely altruistic


they wanted the quasi-humans to work as laborers
or slaves. The experiments were not successful,
the creatures did not improve their appalling looks,
nor did they develop higher intelligence or
language. So the Anunnaki decided to change the
technique, and instead of using the quasi-humans
DNA as their source, they used Anunnaki DNA,
and created the first modern human beings.
There are many stories, tales, epics, and
mythologies regarding the creation of the first
humans. We have ancient Akkadian and Sumerian
clay tablets, records of the Ugaritic cosmology, the
Bible, and the Aztec, Native American, and Hindu
epics, but they are all metaphoric or poetic. The
only accurate description of the creation of
humanity is in The Book of Rama Dosh.
When the Anunnaki created the first human beings,
they were similar to the Kabbalistic Golem, a
creature made of clay and infused with life by its
creator. You might call the Biblical Eve the first
female Golem, but the truth is that they did not
create just one Eve, but seven different ones, and

also created seven different Adams. They started


watching these Golems, how they walked, how
they behaved, how they reacted to various
situations. Then they began to help them develop
certain physical and mental faculties. Some of
these faculties we still have, some were lost. The
lost ones are recorded in The Book of Rama Dosh.
One of the most important faculties they gave these
Golems was speech.
The Anunnaki developed a language that would
suit the Golems, and called it Anakh. It was not
the official Anunnaki language, as spoken on
Ashtari, which is also known as Nibiru. It was a
dialect, or a limited version of the Anunnaki
language, based on limited phraseology and
vocabulary, and without any grammar to speak of.
But the sounds were well captured by those early
Golem/humans, who lived in the area that was
later to be Phoenicia.
To understand this perfectly, one must know the
exact story of the evolution of the Golem/human
into a complete human, but for the moment, just to
understand the development of Anakh, we have to

stay with a short description.


When the Anunnaki created the Golem/human, they
put the faculty of memory in their Conduits. It was
supposed to be programmed in such a way as to
last for a few years, until the task that was assigned
to the Golem/human was accomplished. At the
expiration of the assigned time, the memory was
supposed to end. But for some reason it did not, the
Golem/human retained much of it, and some of
them remembered the words they have learned
from their masters and creators. We know that they
put it in writing, but unfortunately, most of these
priceless records disappeared. All we have left is
the records that tell that the Anunnaki moved from
Phoenicia to Central Africa, Iraq, Egypt, and
Ethiopia, and stayed there for a while, and then
returned to their home planet, Nibiru.
They returned much later, in 10,000 BCE. A huge
gap exists between the time they left Earth and
their return, and we really dont fully know what
the Golem/humans did during this gap, but when
the Anunnaki came back, they were still there,
though greatly changed. These people, who

possessed Anunnaki DNA, evolved into modern


humans, and many were living in the areas where
the Anunnaki landed for the second time. They
landed in Baalbeck, and spread to Tyre, Sidon,
Byblos, and Arwad. They were surprised to find
that the language that they have taught the
Golem/humans was still in use by the humans, and
was much developed.
The humans did not know who the Anunnaki were,
and called them People of the Sky. At that time, no
religion, no gods or deities, were thought of. The
people did not even worship the elements and
powers of nature, as so many archaeologists and
anthropologists suggest, but they did fear these
elements. This fear turned into something like a
ritual, and rites were organized later on and
eventually developed into religions by the more
intelligent people, who called themselves priests.
As it usually occurs throughout history, the priests
became scribes, and recorded much of the Anakh.
They informed the people that Anakh was given to
them by the gods that came from Heaven, namely,
the Anunnaki. This was the first organized religion,

and originating in Phoenicia, and later spreading to


Sumeria, Babylonia, Mesopotamia, and Ur. It was
in Ur that Abraham learned about these multiple
gods and chose the most suitable one for himself,
forming a Covenant with Yahweh.
Originally, as I mentioned, Anakh was not meant
to be a fully developed language, and did not even
possess a grammar. Only words and expressions
were used. Later on, as the Anunnaki became very
fond of the early Phoenicians, they began to teach
the Elite and the priests a more developed version
of the Anakh, as spoken on Nibiru. The scribes
wrote down the language, its characteristics,
symbols and forms.
Incidentally, the scribes/priests of Phoenicia
always wore red and saffron robes. These colors
were symbolic of the fire and heat that the early
Anunnaki spaceships produced. The Anunnaki
taught them where to find the dye for their
costumes. It was produced by shellfish in the
Mediterranean, and called Urjan. Later, when you
attend the Level 8 promotion at the Lodge, you will
see people in the Lodge dressed in red. They are

the custodians of The Book of Rama Dosh, and


they are called Urjanee. Once you are in the Lodge,
Anakh is the only language you will speak with
the Ujranee, and any of the Enlightened Ones. Look
at these symbols, to start with.
He showed me a few symbols, and explained how
to draw certain geometrical forms. I have never
seen these symbols before. There are thousands of
symbols and expressions, and then the developed
Urjanee grammar will also be necessary for you.
And we have a very short time to teach you all of
it. So, do you know what you have to do,
Germain?
Yes, I said calmly. I believe I do. He looked at
me with his bright, glittering eyes, and waited, but
I remained unruffled.
I will learn it in minutes, Rabbi Mordechai, by
not thinking linearly He interrupted me and
said, Ah-ha! Manipulation of time!
Yes, I said. I will use the net.
Very good, said Rabbi Mordechai. Your
Conduit is evolving. Lets go to it right away.
We did, and I learned so quickly that Rabbi

Mordechai was amazed. I did more than speed


through the process, but also showed knowledge of
words and expressions he never taught me. I
mastered the grammar easily and smoothly. The
Conduit, obviously, was working on its own.
You are showing linguistic talents that are well
beyond my expectations, Germain, Rabbi
Mordechai said. I am very pleased. I believe that
these talents will take you in very far in the
direction of diplomacy and ambassadorial duties.
That is wonderful.
I am very happy about it, I said. And I was
thinking, shouldnt I quickly pick a few more
languages, then, earthly ones, I mean? It would
surely help if linguistics is to be my specialty.
Yes, that will be a good idea, said Mordechai.
The more languages you have the more useful you
will be to the Pres du Triangle. And by the way, I
wanted to mention to you that there is no need for
typewriters, or even pens, to write Anakh, even
though of course you can use either if you wish.
Rather, the use of the Miraya is very common. You
can use any size, and the words will appear

automatically as if you are writing them. Would


you like to see the process?
I believe I have already seen the process, I said.
Have you forgotten my Baalbeck adventure?
Good boy! he said, clapping me on both
shoulders. So you did! How could I forget? Of
course, I saw it when the Sheik and the Master
printed The Book of Rama Dosh in the
underground city at Baalbeck, using nothing but
Mirayas and light. Suddenly I had a revelation.
Rabbi Mordechai, I said. The machine that
converted my banana drawing into gold, in Paris,
was also a kind of a Miraya, wasnt it?
Of course, he said. But you know, Germain, I
think such things will be invented by humans as
time goes by. Not gold, perhaps, but print will be
traveling mysteriously from machine to machine,
arriving thousands of miles away from where the
original was put on the machine I am sure of
that only a few years from now. Of course he
was right. We do have the fax machine, and it is
now an old fashioned device that no one pays
attention too. I wonder when we will start passing

physical objects over our new and improved fax


machines pretty soon, I will venture to predict.

And so I became completely fluent in Anakh, and


in addition, played with learning a few other
languages in the same way, as a form of exercise. I
truly enjoyed it, and was extremely gratified when
Mordechai, checking my progress, said to me,
Germain, your linguistic capabilities are above
and beyond what is even normal for an AnunnakiUlema.
Really? I said, surprised.
Yes. It is obvious that these are your special
talents. We have always known that diplomacy and
perhaps ambassadorial duties would be your
profession, but I am seeing an even larger vista
with your abnormal capacity for languages. I will
report all this to the Pres du Triangle, and we will
evaluate your future duties while you are having a
good time in Beirut. Anyway, it is almost time for
you to leave. We shall get you ready to go in a
week, and in the meantime, perhaps you should

relax and enjoy Budapest for a few days. After all,


you covered all the techniques, and you will not
need to come back to finish things off.
That sounded good. I felt free, joyful, and almost
giddy with the anticipation of what I was about to
see in Beirut, and I felt pretty sure of my grasp of
all the techniques. That evening I had a chance of
proving it to Mordechai. We went a little earlier
for our walk, and passed by the school yard of a
not very wealthy high school. A few boys were
playing basketball, and as was customary in poorer
countries, the basketball court was made from
simple poured asphalt. There was no cushion of
any kind, and just as I was thinking that the boys
could really hurt themselves if they fell, one of
them jumped quite high and fell on his knee. I
rushed toward him as I saw the blood pouring out
of a four inch cut. Immediately, I put my hand on
the cut, and concentrated on healing it. The
bleeding stopped immediately, and the cut began to
close. No one noticed since I quickly tied a
handkerchief over the whole thing, and we left,
Rabbi Mordechai smiling to himself half with

satisfaction and half cynically at my approach.


Good job, he said. They did not even notice
that they have witnessed a miracle
Another opportunity of proving my new powers
arose a couple of days later. We are out of bread
and cheese, I said. Lets go to the store and get
some this afternoon, so we will have it for dinner.
We walked to the store, while out of respect I
walked slightly behind Rabbi Mordechai. But I did
have some plans The store had a heavy wooden
door, and Rabbi Mordechai, who was a couple of
steps ahead of me, opened it and entered. When he
got in, he saw that I was already standing inside,
leaning on the wall and smiling at him. Now why
did you do that? he said, not too seriously.
Didnt you do the same thing on the bridge? I
said. Its my turn!
Well, in this case, since you are so smart, why
dont you pay for the bread and cheese? I did not
bring any money, said Rabbi Mordechai.
But I dont have money either, I said.
So you are stuck? he asked.
Well, yes, I am stuck, I said, trying to look as sad

and pathetic as I could.


Come, come, dont try to outsmart your teacher,
he said. I know you can pay. Put your hand in your
pocket. I did, and pulled out an empty pocket to
show him.
Nonsense, said Rabbi Mordechai. Put your
hand in your pocket again and this time,
concentrate. You have already convinced me that
you have not brought any money.
Since this was what I planned to do all along, and
it was a very easy technique for me by now, I
looked sadly at my empty pocket, turned it so I
could tuck it back in, and concentrated. When I got
my hand out of the pocket it was full of money.
Rabbi Mordechai laughed, clapped his hands with
appreciation of the performance, and I went to pay
for the food.
Well, we are done, I said, carrying the packages
to Rabbi Mordechai.
Not quite, he said. Look behind you. A woman
that I sensed to be about sixty years old, but looked
much older, stood in the corner, trying to undo the
knot in the handkerchief where she tied up a few

coins. I looked and realized that there was not


enough money in the handkerchief to buy anything
at all. Without much thought, I went and gave her
the bread and cheese, and avoiding her heartfelt
thanks quickly left the store, followed by Rabbi
Mordechai. You might ask why I did not give her
the money that was left in my pocket after I paid
for my purchase. The reason is that money
acquired by such means may not be stable, and if
she keeps it for a few days, may or may disappear.
The bread and cheese would be stable and last her
for a couple of days, and it was therefore a safer
gift.
On the street, Rabbi Mordechai said, Wash your
hands once before you eat. Wash them twice if you
dont share your food with others.
I feel so happy I have given her the food, that I am
not really hungry anymore, I said.
You will be hungry after our walk, but dont
worry about it, said Rabbi Mordechai. I did not
think about what he said until we got home. On the
table, I saw bread and cheese waiting for our
dinner; food was given to us. You always get

what you give, said Rabbi Mordechai. We had a


very nice dinner and a pleasant evening, and by the
time I went to bed I put my hand in my pocket just
to check. As I thought, the money that was left over
from my purchase disappeared. It had served its
purpose both for us and for the poor woman, and
there was no need for it to stay any longer.
In a few days I was ready to leave for
Beirut. Germain, said Rabbi Mordechai, your
education is complete. I will always be there for
you for consultation, help and advice, and you will
always be my son. But your studies will take a
different turn. With your knowledge of Anakh, you
can now study from the primary sources and the
abundant commentaries, and with your command of
the techniques, you can move on to your diplomatic
service. When you go back to Paris, after studying
The Book of Rama Dosh, you will report to the
Pres du Triangles Lodge, and your assignments
will be given to you. You are now a full-fledged,
independent Anunnaki-Ulema.
I dont feel it yet, Rabbi Mordechai, I said

humbly. I still feel a student, a novice, despite all


the accomplishments you have given me.
Dont worry about it, said Rabbi Mordechai.
There will be a moment of enlightenment, when
suddenly you will realize how much power and
wisdom you have acquired and how you can use it
to your own and humanitys advantage. It will
come!

Lesson Seven:
Moving Objects by Using Mental
Powers
As mentioned earlier, you cannot do any of
these techniques to amuse yourself, it simply will
not work unless there is a purpose to the activity,
and it must be a beneficial and positive purpose. It
does not have to be a great undertaking, a simple
positive intent will be just fine.
Put a lightweight coaster on the table. You
wish to manipulate it with the beneficial intent of
preventing a cup of coffee or tea from spilling on
the table. Before starting, sit in a comfortable
position next to the table. Never attempt to do this
technique standing up you may very easily lose
your balance and fall.
You should not try to start with a heavy
object, but once you learned how to work with this
techniques, and your powers become stronger, you
could increase the weight of the objects.

Preparations
In preparation, certain changes in lifestyle
are needed during two weeks before you start your
exercises:
Avoid all alcoholic beverages.
Avoid smoking, or tobacco in any form.
Abstain from sexual activity.
Do not eat meat.
Do not use any animal fat, such as lard,
bacon drippings, or butter, in your cooking.

Precautions During Practice


During your practice, certain precautions must be
taken:
Take off your shoes, and make sure your
feet touch the ground, to anchor yourself.
Do not wear anything made of metal.
Do not allow either people or pets in the
same room with you. You must have complete
privacy.

Do not have any crystal glass in the room


with you.

The Technique
Extend your hands in front of you from the
elbow up and shake them in the air for four or
five seconds. This cleanses the hands from
superfluous energy that might have
accumulated on them.
With your arms in the same position, spread
your fingers and hold for three seconds.
Put your thumbs on your forehead, right on
the temples, with the fingers still spread in
front of your face. Make sure the thumbs are
located in the small indentation that is close
to your eyes. People who practice
acupressure will recognize this spot
pressing it is used to cure headaches. Hold
the position for three seconds.
Rotate your thumbs, taking your fingers to
the back of your head, and put your

forefingers in the indentation at the back of


your head, where it meets the neck. Again,
People who practice acupressure will
recognize this spot it is used to cure
headaches.
Push your forefingers into the indentation,
and hold the position for ten seconds.
Close your eyes.
While still sitting with your back straight,
bring your chin as close to your solar plexus
as possible. Remain in this position for ten
seconds. At this point, you will feel a slight
dizziness. This is perfectly fine, it is part of
the procedure.
Keeping your thumbs in their position,
release the forefingers, and rotate your hands
forward until you can put your forefingers in
the small indentations by the sides of the
bridge of your nose. In acupressure, this is the
site for one of the techniques that release
pressure in the sinuses, so practitioners
would be able to recognize the sensation. The
rest of your fingers should be kept in a

horizontal position, the fingers of one hand


resting over the fingers of the other hand, the
thumbs pointing down.
Move your thumbs toward each other and
have them touch. Your hands will form a
triangle. Your arms will be in a position of
ninety degrees, relative to your body.
Say to yourself, mentally, I will now make
the coaster move.
In your mind, draw one line from the
middle of your left wrist, and another line
from the middle of your right wrist, toward
the coaster. Visualize the coaster between the
two lines.
Keeping your hands in the same position,
raise your head and sit straight.
Drop your hands down slowly. In your
minds eye, keep on visualizing the coaster.
Bring your arms close to your body so the
arms touch the ribs.
Move your hands up to a position in which
they are horizontal to the floor.
The left hand should serves as a rod,

moving the left line further to the left. The


same should be done with the right hand,
moving the line further to the right.
Keep concentrating on the coaster, with
your eyes still closed, for at least another
minute.
With your eyes still closed, you will notice
blue lines and bubbles moving in front of your
eyes.
At this point, decide which side of your
body you are about to employ. You may use
either side, but not both at the same time.
Lets assume you chose the left side. Open
your eyes, and concentrating on the left line,
look intently at the coaster. Move your left
hand a little to the side, and the coaster will
move with it. You have accomplished your
mission.
Closing the energy
This is the end of the exercise, but like any other
mental technique, you cannot just leave and go

about your business. You have created a center of


energy, which should never be left open. The
energy you have created with this exercise is
linear. To create an all-around center of energy
needs a higher training, and closing it is more
difficult, but closing the linear energy is relatively
easy.
Extend both hands, straight in front of you.
Make the hands stay in the direction of the
lines.
Bring the hands close together, with a very
little distance between them.
Visualize a very thin thread entering the
space between the hands. Close your hands
around the thread.
Bring your closed hands toward your solar
plexus.
Open your hands, and shake them as you
have done in the beginning. You have closed
the center of energy.

*** *** ***

Chapter Eight:
Encounters with the Anunnaki and
The Book of Rama Dosh
Journey to Beirut
The nature of the Beirut Lodge
Reuniting with Dr. Farid

Affiliation-Membership: promotion to
Level Eight
The Anunnaki lecture
Meeting with Sinhar Baalshamroot
Visiting Cheik Al Huseini
Studying The Book of Rama Dosh
Mamas death and apparition
Lesson Eight: The Minzar, Your Mirror to
Alternate Realities

As soon as I left the plane, even before going to


customs, a distinguished looking gentleman
approached me. Offering his hand, he gave me the
special handshake and introduced himself. As I
found out later, he was a former officer in the
Syrian army and an engineer for Middle East
Airlines, quite an important man to receive a
novice, I thought, and felt honored.
I am inside because the inspections usually takes
a very long time here, and my presence will help to
shorten the time, he said. Leaving everything in
his capable hands, I was out of customs in ten
minutes, while the rest of the passengers were
standing in very long lines. The officer then
conducted me to a chauffeured car, and we drove
off.
I am assigned to you, Mr. Lumire, he
said. You may not be aware of it, but each
member who visits the Lodge for the AffiliationMembership is given a so-called Godfather, who
is to conduct him or her about the business, and
make the formal introductions to everyone.

However, all your business will start tomorrow. I


am taking you first to your hotel, so you can rest
and be ready for the ceremony.
After a short trip, we arrived at the Saint
Georges, a five star, most distinguished hotel.
Again, I was surprised that they had treated me
with such honor, but knowing that the least said the
better, I thanked him for his kindness, and we
arranged to have me picked up at three oclock the
next day.
I had a relaxing evening and a wonderful
dinner at the hotel, slept late, and was ready for my
Godfather at the lobby a little before three oclock.
He came at the same time, and we drove to the
Lodge.
Beirut is an interesting city. It is shaped as a
triangle that is situated by the sea and flanked by
two hills, and combines the beauty of both, while
still allowing a flat enough surface for building.
The architecture is a mixture of Arabic, Turkish,
and Western styles, creating an aura of
cosmopolitan sophistication, where a goldendomed jewel of a building can stand next to a

modern, Western office building. The city is


divided into sections, each dominated by either
Christians or various sects of Muslims, but like
many Middle Eastern country, the residential,
commercial, and sometimes even the industrial
areas are mixed. The street where the Lodge stood,
which was in a Muslim neighborhood, was full of
antique shops, known for the rare artifacts they
sold.
The Lodge was built in the elegant Turkish
architectural style. It was a tall building, and while
it did not seem extremely big on the outside, its
inside was spacious and impressive, since the
ceiling was very high. It had the air of a Middle
Eastern embassy, with mezzanines, elegant
staircases, and the traditional decorations of
arabesques and mosaics. The walls were paneled
with dark wood and pink marble, and as I entered,
I had a nostalgic Dj Vu the place looked like
many of the handsome buildings I had known
during my childhood years in Damascus. It even
smelled the same, giving off the scent of a very
old, but well-cared for house.

Unlike the business-like members of the


European Lodges, the people who occupied this
one were of a very warm, welcoming, loving
nature. Everyone was extremely friendly. In a few
minutes Dr. Farid hurried out of his office to meet
me, and hugged me as if I were a long-lost son. He
took me to a salon, where a spread of coffee, fruit,
and Middle Eastern pastries were ready on a huge,
shining brass tray resting on wooden legs. I smiled
at Dr. Farid, who was pouring coffee for me with
his own hands rather than calling a servant. This
is very different from the Initiation in Ethiopia, I
remarked.
Of course, he said. In Ethiopia, you were
a pilgrim, a novice, waiting to be accepted. Here,
you are a member, equal to everyone!
So I will not have to remove my shoes and
tie, or tie up my eyes, for the AffiliationMembership ceremony?
Oh, no. Nothing of the kind, said Dr. Farid,
laughing. Such treatment is over. You must get
used to being a full-fledged Anunnaki-Ulema, my
boy.

That is what Rabbi Mordechai is saying,


Dr. Farid, but he said it will happen naturally.
Of course. Like you, I felt rather humble
after all the years of study with the great masters. I
did not accept my equal position easily, but felt
like a novice for a long
time after my initiation. Years, really. Still, sooner
or later I became comfortable with it. It was
probably different for Rabbi Mordechai. I know
him well, you see, and love him as well as you do,
so you probably will agree with me that there is
nothing in the known universe, or unknown
universe for that matter, that could possibly
intimidate Rabbi Mordechai. He is larger than life,
and I think he was like that since birth. I can
imagine him going to Ashtari and speaking firmly
to the Council of the Anunnaki, if he felt that was
needed for helping some of his starving protgs in
Eastern Europe. I laughed. This description was
true.
This Lodge feels different from the other
Lodges, I said. There is something about it,
something in the air

Well, yes. The other Lodges you have


visited are more worldly, business-like
organizations. This one has a leaning toward the
spiritual, though we are conducting regular
business as well. We have direct access to ancient
legacies through secret manuscripts that tie up the
Anunnaki to early Phoenicia, Egypt, King
Solomon, Genesis, among others. And most
important, we have access to The Book of Rama
Dosh such things show in the aura and air of a
place. As always, when The Book of Rama Dosh
was mentioned, I felt a chill go down my spine.
At this moment, my Godfather came in and
joined us, and the three of us spent a pleasant half
hour together before it was time to attend the
ceremony, where I would be promoted to Level
Eight. Dr. Farid left us, and my Godfather and I
went together.
He conducted me to a large hall, full of
people. All wore the same black robes, except for
one section, where fifteen or twenty people sat by
themselves, all wearing bright red robes. These
were the Urjanee, which Rabbi Mordechai told me

so much about, the scribes who wore clothes


reminiscent of the Anunnakis early space ships,
colored by the special dye made from shellfish of
the Mediterranean. I was wondering if the dye was
still made from the shellfish, or were the Urjanee
using modern dyes, but it was a passing thought. I
had not time to muse on that, since my Godfather
took me to an altar that stood in the center of the
hall. It was covered with a black silk cloth with a
white edge around it, and on it stood a candelabra
with three candles, commemorating the three
seconds that the earth took to form, according to
The Book of Rama Dosh. Two swords, with
handles made of solid gold, rested on the altar next
to the candelabra.
We stood before the altar. One of the Urjanee
got up, approached me, and greeted me in Anakh.
I responded in the same language, in which I was
now completely fluent, and the whole room
applauded with appreciation. The Urjanee
proceeded to ask a few questions, which I
answered. The audience applauded again. Then,
the Urjanee picked up the two swords, crossed

them and put them over my neck. You are a Level


Eight member now, Mr. Lumire, he said. I
proceeded to bow to him, to show my thanks, but
he stopped me. We are all equal here, I am not
worth bowing to, he said, picked up a necklace on
which hung a medallion, and put it around my neck.
He wrapped a red silk sash around my waist, and
added a belt made of metal and fine leather, into
which he stuck one of the swords. Follow me, he
said.
We went to the end of the room, where a
stone basin stood. It was full of water, and on the
bottom of it I could see mud. Stick your sword
into the mud, he said. I obeyed.
Now, pull the sword out, he said. I
attempted to do so, and found that I could not lift
the sword out of the mud. I looked at him,
surprised, and he smiled and said, This is your
last lesson. Our word is like a sword. Once you
pronounce a word, you cannot take it back. Let all
your actions and thoughts be like a sword. My
Godfather came over and handed me a red robe,
and I put it around my shoulders. The audience

applauded one more time, and the ceremony was


over. My Godfather took me out of the room, Dr.
Farid rushed over to congratulate me, and gave me
instructions about the upcoming lecture I was
supposed to attend the next day. I was taken back to
my hotel, to rest and prepare to what was to be the
most amazing lecture I have ever attended, before
or after.
I must admit that the prospect of meeting an
Anunnaki was intimidating. I have had many
experiences in my life that would be considered
supernatural, but I had adopted Rabbi
Mordechais motto, that if something exists, it must
be natural, or else it wont exist. But this occasion
had nothing to do with the occult or with the
supernatural. There was never a doubt that the
Anunnaki existed. Nevertheless, meeting your own
creator is not something most people could take
lightly, and the Anunnaki had created humanity.
They were extremely long lived, so this
Anunnaki, for all I knew, might have been involved
in the original DNA experiments an unsettling
thought. I did not sleep much that night.

My Godfather picked me up and we drove to


the Lodge. He conducted me to a room, where an
attendant gave me a black robe to put on before I
went in. I sat down with the audience and looked
around. The room, constructed like a small,
crescent-shaped amphitheater, was austere. The
walls were painted grayish white, and the lights
were dim. In the middle of the room stood a
rectangular table, flanked by two oval tables made
of heavy, thick glass. The center of each, of a
diameter of perhaps twenty centimeters, was made
of crystal and platinum. The room was already full
of people, all wearing the same black robes like
the one given to me, and two people were at the
central table, talking quietly to each other; I
assumed they were the speakers. I could not
discern all the words, but it was clear they were
speaking Anakh. As Rabbi Mordechai told me,
Anakh was the only language spoken at the Lodge.
After a few minutes, one of the speakers
turned toward the audience and said, We are
about to give you an opportunity to view The Book
of Rama Dosh. You will view it as long as there is

enough energy to keep the book manifested. Later,


Grand Master Farid will accept requests from
those of you who like to see a copy of the book
privately, for purposes of studying. The audience,
clearly not understanding, whispered to each other,
creating a rustle of soft sounds, What do they
mean, energy? I thought it was a real book. I
did not know that we could study it and such
like remarks. I said nothing and waited. I thought I
had an idea of what the book was like,
remembering the experience of printing the book in
Baalbeck, though of course I could not be sure.
We can clearly hear you, said one of the
two speakers at the table. What we meant is, you
are about to see a projection of the real book, but it
can only be made permanent when Sinhar
Baalshamroot will agree to seal it.
The title, Sinhar, was Anunnaki, of course,
so I imagined that Sinhar Baalshamroot would be
the lecturer. I knew what to expect, since the
Anunnaki almost always manifest in the same way,
and Rabbi Mordechai described it to me. Still, the
tension in the room was high, and I was not all that

calm myself.
Suddenly, a bright, yellow shaft of light
appeared in the room, seemingly out of nowhere. It
was a dusty sort of light, with particles moving in
it at a random motion, much like a sunbeam through
a window on a summer afternoon, but brighter and
highly visible against the dimly lit room. Soon, the
little particles stopped moving in their crazy
random way, and instead, started to coagulate,
moving toward the center in an orderly way. The
particles at the center formed a globe, while the
rest of the shaft of light was clean and empty of
particles. Then, a sudden visual but silent
explosion took place in the center, as if the center
burst into fireworks. Slowly, the fireworks
rearranged themselves into the shape of a baby.
In a few seconds, the baby form started growing. It
expanded, changed, filled out the shaft, and seemed
to become a grown-up man. But the man was
deformed. Part of his back overlapped his neck,
his hips jutted away from his body, and the face
was blurred. The man rearranged himself, became
normal, and stepped out of the shaft of light. The

shaft remained where it was, waving gently and


illuminating the man. His eyes glowed in the
dimmed room, like the eyes of a wolf, or like two
little lanterns.
Eventually the glow in his eyes subsided, but the
eyes were still not normal. They seemed to glitter,
so brightly that I was not able to make out their
color. Then the glitter died down, and I could see
that his eyes were dark, almost black, and
unusually large. They did not move, but stared at
you directly. I remembered Rabbi Mordechai
mentioning that the Anunnaki did not possess a
retina, and their vision was based on a more
sophisticated mechanism. He had olive skin, and
the little bit of his hair that was showing under his
white head covering was coal black. And he was
extremely tall, over seven feet, his height
emphasized by the long white robe he wore, very
plain, reaching his feet. In the dim light of the
room, his attire glowed softly. Greetings, he
said. His voice was startling. It sounded like one
of those old records you played on an oldfashioned turntable if you put it on the wrong

speed, it became fast, squeaky, and scratchy, very


unpleasant. He stopped, made some elaborate
movements with his hands, and spoke again, this
time with a very pleasant, deep and soft human
voice. I am sorry. It is all right now. His eyes,
now so black and velvety, gazed at us from under
the white head covering, and they were so
extraordinarily beautiful, so full of thought and
wisdom, that even if I did not know he was an
extraterrestrial of extreme old age, I could have
guessed it in an instant. His face, though chiseled
and masculine, was also breathtaking in its stark
beauty. No wonder, I thought, that the ancient
humans thought the Anunnaki were angels. That
was what an angel should look like, if he existed
I noted that with his appearance, a scent of
flowers, a little like roses but not quite, filled the
room. It did so gently, unobtrusively, and certainly
not like a heavy perfume, but unquestionably there,
lingering softly.
The Anunnaki went to one of the circular
tables, put his finger on the center, and spun it.
Light emanated from the crystal and platinum

center, and suddenly an image appeared on the


wall the page of a book. Another page followed,
and like a film, the pages continued to come after
each other. One of the speakers said, Soon it will
be possible for you to read it. After a while,
letters appeared, and some of the book became
readable. I knew I was already given permission to
study the book, so I was not concerned about
discerning words, but I could see that everyone
was doing the best they could to catch the words.
The Anunnaki said, The head of the Lodge
will give each of you a message regarding future
instructions. Any of you who wish will be able to
study the book later. A few will be chosen to
receive direct instruction from me first. Those who
receive a blue envelope are invited to convene
here shortly. One by one, we passed by the table,
each having a chance to look at the images on the
wall as we walked outside. The speakers handed
us the envelopes. As I expected, mine was indeed
blue, and after all of us passed by the table and left
the room, I retuned to the lecture among the thirteen
chosen members.

The Anunnaki waited for us, quiet and


unmoving. I had the feeling that his immense age
had given him the joy of never having to hurry. I
could not imagine such an individual being
impatient. As we all returned to our seats,
gathering at the front of the room as much as
possible, he started to speak.
This will be the first and last time you see
me, since I have to speak to many people of your
race, and there will be no time for me to speak
more than once to anyone. I am here to tell you
about what is going to happen in the year 2002.
We, the Anunnaki, are meeting with you out
of courtesy. No one will say that warning was not
given. The events I am about to describe, and the
date, were decided upon long ago, in your terms,
right after your World War II. You are important to
us, and we feel that perhaps you have not been
properly evolving, mentally and spiritually,
because of some mistakes we have made. At least,
this could be a partial cause. Still, whoever is at
fault, the situation on this planet cannot continue.
On the good side, many of you will experience

enlightenment in 2022.
There are two facts that only some of you
are familiar with. First, you must be aware of the
activities of certain extraterrestrial races who had
been damaging human DNA. Particularly
dangerous are those who are called the Grays.
They experiment on humans with the intention of
saving their own race, which is suffering from an
incurable disease called Progeria. Information on
this disease is readily available, so I will not go
into it here. Second, you know that the Anunnaki
created Earth, millions of years ago. Earth was
created as a laboratory a place to develop a new
race. The High Council of the Anunnaki did not
agree to have the experiments done on Nibiru, so
the planet-sized laboratory was a good solution.
Unfortunately, the Grays decided to interfere.
They did so by diluting and destroying the pure
DNA that was given to the humans by the
Anunnaki. The great knowledge that could be had
from these experiments did not materialize, at least
not completely, and eventually, the Anunnaki
decided to stop the experiments and leave earth, or

at least no longer use it as a laboratory.


We never quite deserted the earth, and in
particular, we kept our connection with our
students, the Anunnaki-Ulema. But despite our
effort to prevent it, the Grays managed to create
greed, violence, and unbelievable cruelty within
human nature. Such characteristics were not part of
the original DNA we used to create the humans.
We had intended to create the humans in our image,
but that was no longer so. When I think of the
barbarism some humans display, torturing, abusing,
killing their own species, and doing the same, and
even eating, the bodies of other species, I cringe
when I think that humanity was created in the image
of the Anunnaki. Right now, humanity is divided
into three groups, based on their level of
contamination.
The first group is those who exhibit heavy
Grays DNA contamination. These people,
considering the practices they engage in, are
doomed. We see them as pure evil and there is
nothing anyone can do for them. The second group
are people who exhibit a medium level of Grays

DNA contamination. They have some chance,


not much, but still, we hope that they will listen to
our warning and try to work on their own
redemption. We offer no guarantee, of course.
Then, there is the third group, people who exhibit
light Grays DNA contamination. They have a
chance of survival. Those who are not
contaminated will be classified differently.
This will not be the first time we have
cleansed a planet. The procedure requires a
cataclysmic event, which we accomplish by
bringing a bubble of the size of the earth and made
of a special substance, resembling anti-matter but
not destructive, and make it touch the earths
atmosphere. When they touch, all the humans that
have been lucky enough not to be contaminated by
Grays DNA, and all the animals, plants, and those
inanimate material which the Anunnaki wish to
preserve will be stripped from earth and absorbed
into the bubble, and occupy areas fitted for their
special needs. All the creatures involved will have
no recollection of the event, to avoid trauma.
The earth will then be cleaned of all

pollution, dirt, landfills, plastics, and smog, using


extremely advanced technological tools. Once that
is done, the earth will be the way it was before
humans lived on it, and at that point, all the
creatures and objects we have saved, all the
humans, animals, plants, and inanimate objects that
were kept in the bubble, would be returned to
earth. Anunnaki guides will be there for the
humans, who would naturally need quite a bit of
help to adjust to the new life. The animals, who
possess a superior capacity to adjust, will not need
any guidance.
Those who were heavily contaminated will
simply be destroyed. What is left are those who
are the medium-level of contamination, and the
lighter level. If any of these succeed in completely
cleansing themselves, they will also go in the
bubble and be saved. Medium level who do not
succeed in the cleansing, will be destroyed. Those
with light level contamination will have access to
another option. They will have to go through
Baabs, or Star Gates, into other dimensions, so
that they could be evaluated by the Anunnaki. It is

extremely difficult to go through a Baab, but it is


possible to succeed, it is not entirely hopeless.
Many, however, will vanish during the attempt.
Those who survive, if they can be cleaned, can go
back to earth. If not, they will live out their lives in
another dimension, where conditions are much like
your own earth before the cleaning.
Of course, they will not be permitted to hurt
each other, and there will not be any animals there
that they could torture or eat. They will lead a
normal life, but will not be able to reproduce, so
eventually they will die out. We will not kill them,
since they are not inherently evil like the heavily
contaminated ones, but they cannot be allowed to
reproduce the bad DNA. All that might sound harsh
to you, but you must understand that the Anunnaki
do not indulge in sentimental pity. We do not think
that any form of evil should be allowed to exist.
I understand that this is difficult for you to
understand and accept. Realize that we have not
reached these conclusions lightly. Perhaps, given
the time and the efforts you, our students, and the
Anunnaki, are going to engage in, perhaps it is not

be too late to save humanity.


But I doubt it. The greed and cruelty are very
deeply ingrained. Only time will tell.
We sat in shocked silence. This indeed was a
harsh message. And yet, I could understand their
point of view. We must have been a great
disappointment to the Anunnaki. No one said
anything, no one attempted to ask a question.
He then spoke of other things, but I cannot
reveal them in this book, since I have been asked
to keep them secret. Throughout the lecture, I
noticed something extraordinary. He would talk for
two minutes, and of course we were glued to his
fantastic teaching, but then he would stop talking
for about three minutes, and speak to us
telepathically. Off and on, two minutes and three
minutes. Obviously, he was doing for us more than
just giving the lecture. He also advanced, by a huge
quantum leap, our telepathic abilities.
When the lecture was over, he said, I want
to make it clear to you that you have met a true
Anunnaki, and have not been exposed to a charade
or a hoax. Please pass by the table as you go out.

We formed a line, and each stopped before


him. I stood at the end of the line, wanting to
contemplate what was happening. He pointed his
forefinger at each of us, and told the person his or
her name and age. He had never seen any of us
before, of course, and yet I felt that he could tell
the story of each of our lives, had he wanted to do
so. At the same time, we were puzzled by one
more message, that one nonverbal. When my turn
came to stand before him, Baalshamroots beautiful
face shifted and changed right in front of me. I
stared as the planes of his face were being
modified, fascinated by the bizarre phenomenon,
unable to move. To my utter disbelief, the male
Anunnaki turned into a female, a woman so
beautiful that my breath was taken away. Yes, we
are all shape-changers, she said, smiling at me.
Her eyes, black and immovable, gazed back at me.
But I did not mean it as a mere trick. I wanted to
make sure that all of you realize that we are all
one, male, female, Anunnaki, human, animal. We
are one! Remember that. Remember me.
Goodbye. And in a blink of an eye, Baalshamroot

vanished. I felt a deep sadness, as if a deep void


opened in front of me, knowing I will never see her
again. But I also knew that was as it should be, and
one must accept.
Slowly, thoughtfully, I went to Dr. Farids
office, musing on all that has happened to me in the
last few days; it was hard to digest. I was going to
get instructions as to when and where I would be
given the honor of reading The Book of Rama
Dosh. Another miracle will manifest in my life.
Dr. Farid informed me that the arrangements
have been made, and that the next day he would
pick me up very early in the morning. We were to
drive to Baalbeck, to see Cheik Al Huseini, my
host during my previous trip to Baalbeck. It was
there that I saw the startling printing of The Book
of Rama Dosh, in the underground city. It would be
nice to see him again. Dr. Farid added that Ulema
Ghandahar, an expert on The Book of Rama Dosh,
would join us at the Cheiks house.
The Cheik, as hospitable and pleasant as
ever, was delighted to see me, and hugged me
enthusiastically in the friendly and warm Arab

fashion. I knew you had the


making of a great Ulema in you, Germain! he said,
holding me at arms length and looking at my face
with great affection. You were such an attentive
youth, and so fearless during our meeting with the
Afrit, we were impressed!
I wish I had known you were impressed at
the time, I said, laughing. I felt like such a fool,
and Taj made fun of me.
Ah, that is just Taj, he said indulgently.
Such a silly man, like a big baby... But we all
love him anyway. And he is doing very well now,
with all the gold he got at the underground city.
He was badly beaten for it by the Afrit, I
said.
You pay the price for everything in this
world, said the Cheik philosophically. But in the
end, everything is as it should be. As we Arabs
say, Machtoob! But come in, come in! Ulema
Ghandahar is waiting for us in the library. My
excitement at the thought of finally reading The
Book of Rama Dosh hardly needs to be described.
We entered the house and went directly to the

library. It was a much smaller room than I


expected, and the pretty, carved and glassed over
bookcases seemed to contain scholarly, but
ordinary books, the kind you would find in any
scholars library. I was surprised, since I expected
a huge collection at Cheik Al Huseinis library.
Little did I know what was to come
The Cheik introduced me to Ulema
Ghandahar, who shook my hand and said that he
would be so happy to acquaint me with the most
important book in the world.
Cheik Al Huseini went to one of the
bookcases and pushed a hidden button among the
carvings on the wood. The case swerved to the
side, and a short secret passage was revealed. We
walked through it to a wooden door, and entered a
library of immense proportions. The ceiling was
very high, about fourteen feet in my estimate, and
the room stretched to the proportions of a hall.
Bookcases lined the walls, floor to ceiling, and
more books were stacked on tables. These books
were mostly very old, as you could tell from the
leather and cloth covers. However, not only books

were there. Through the glassed doors on some of


the cabinets I saw a huge collection of ancient
rolled-up scrolls. There was a divan on one side,
and a few comfortable chairs, all done in the
sumptuous Arab style. Diffused light came from the
partially covered windows. This was exactly like
the library I had imagined Cheik Al Huseini would
have. Of course, I thought. There are things here
that should never be seen by the non-initiates. He
must keep it secret.
Cheik Al Huseini went to one of the
bookcases, looking for something, and without
turning his head said, Please, help yourselves! I
looked at the table before me, on which three cups
of tea, which were not there a minute ago, suddenly
materialized, accompanied by some pastries.
I smiled and looked at Dr. Farid, pointing
silently at the tea cups. This is only the
beginning, he said mysteriously. My excitement
mounted, I could not wait to see The Book of Rama
Dosh, and I was wondering if that was what the
Cheik was looking for. I sipped my tea and took a
pastry.

It was interesting, I thought, how different the


Ulema of the Middle East were from the Western
ones, or the Chinese, even though their goals,
aspirations, and ethics were exactly the same. For
example, Rabbi Mordechai always said, If you
can do something normally, there is no reason to
use the so-called supernatural powers. Master Li
was exactly the same. I was taught the techniques
that emphasized the power of mind, not techniques
that had the touch of the magical. The Middle
Eastern Ulema did not think in those terms. They
comfortably used all the magical techniques they
wanted, and in addition, seemed to have contact
with non-human entities who lived with them and
worked for them. I decided that the people of the
Middle East loved emulating the sumptuous style
of King Solomon, with his Afrit, gold, talking
animals, flying carpets, and rivers of wine. The
Western Ulema tended to work like scientists, with
a tendency toward austerity and a simple lifestyle.
The differences were dictated by personality and
culture, I suppose, because all of them wanted and
achieved the same objectives, only reaching them

by different roads.
The Cheik turned away from the book case,
and walked a few feet toward us. He did not find
the book he looked for, I thought, worried that it
was lost and I will not be seeing it after all. A
sense of disappointment went through me, but I
noticed that the Cheik was doing something
strange. He turned toward the bookcase, lifted his
arm, and pointed at the book case. Then he
stopped, not moving. A second later, a book came
floating toward him, and hovered in midair. The
Cheik sat down and spoke a few words in a
language that I did not know, but from the way he
said it, I deduced that it was a code.
The book floated further toward him, and
settled gently on the table. It was a big, heavy
book, with a wood bark cover that had no marking
on it to show what was its title. The Cheik did not
touch it. Instead, he went to a small table on the
side of the divan, and brought a small box made of
dark wood, inlaid with silver and mother of pearl.
He put it next to the book.
Germain, would you please go to the

bathroom next door, take a shower, and put on the


white robe that hangs on the door, the Cheik said.
Well wait for you.
I did as I was told. While showering, I
wondered if the book on the table was indeed The
Book of Rama Dosh. How could it be? It looked
quite different when the Cheik and Master Li
printed it with the help of the Miraya plates and the
light. Then, it looked like shining plastic, very
modern, while the book on the library table was a
normal, old book. Later I found out how this
worked, so I might as well explain it right here.
The Book of Rama Dosh exists as only one
copy. It is located in another dimension. Each time
an Anunnaki-Ulema needs a copy, it must be
printed directly from this original. Calling it
requires special situations and techniques, such as
I have seen in the underground city, but the
advantage is, each copy is an exact facsimile of the
original. Other ancient books are subject to
mistakes in printing, incorrect interpretation of
words, etc., but not The Book of Rama Dosh. If
this was the same copy that was printed in my

presence, then the Cheik took the plates, which I


remember him to wrap carefully in a silk scarf, to
his own library, and there made sure it is properly
wrapped in wood bark. It would never be wrapped
in leather or any other animal-related substance.
Of course, I could not be sure that this was
the same copy, but no matter what, the content was
always identical to the true, the one Book of Rama
Dosh.
I put on the white robe, returned to the
library and sat at the table with the other three.
Cheik Al Huseini opened the book, so now I knew
that must be The Book of Rama Dosh. I tried to
keep calm. This would be the first time I would
see Anakh printed in a book! And who could tell
what the book is about? The Cheik turned the page.
It looked old. He turned a few other pages, each
looking newer and smoother than the last. None of
the pages had anything written on it, though. And
yet, the three others seemed to be absorbed in
reading the book! Was I going mad? I did not want
to interrupt them, or ask questions, but I was
beginning to feel desperate. Another page was

turned, and it was again completely blank. I sighed


with irritation. The Cheik suddenly stopped,
looked at me and said, Moo Akhazaa, forgive me,
please. He laughed gently. You cannot see the
writing without the necessary machine, he
continued. We no longer need it, at this stage, and
when you get to stage 18 and over, you wont need
it either, but for the moment, this machine will help
you see the writing. He opened the little box that
was on the table next to the book, and took out a
sophisticated-looking
contraption.
It
was
obviously meant to be used as eyeglasses, but did
not look like modern ones. Rather, it was more like
a Seventeenth Century Swiss watch, and I saw
wheels attached to it on which certain letters and
numbers were written, some big, some small, in an
old and elegant font, looking like codes.
What is this? I asked. It is going to help
your vision, said Cheik Al Huseini. Take a look
at how it is constructed. There were three layers
of lenses for each eye, made of glass or crystal,
completely transparent. A small wheel, made of
gold and edged with green topaz, was attached to

each lens, all on one side. Each wheel had a little


knob used for adjusting the codes. You would lift
each lens individually, and adjust the wheel to the
required code. On the other side was a larger
wheel, about twice the size of the little wheels, and
it adjusted itself to the position of the small wheels
once they were in the perfect position.
Once the arrangement of the lenses and
wheels was complete, the machine would allow
you to see colors we usually do not see on earth.
Within these colors reside separate dimensions, or
perhaps the colors reside in these dimensions,
which is really one and the same. It is as if a door
is opened to a spatial gate, an entrance to these
parallel dimensions. You are on earth, but through
your Conduit, you are entering an unearthly,
separate dimension.
Now, put the machine on, and look at the
bookcases. Dont look at the light from the
window. This will allow your retina to adjust, and
will bring up certain visual faculties.
What does it do? I asked, putting the
machine on.

It emulates the natural vision of the


Anunnaki, who do not possess a retina, but a more
complex mechanism. Even if you close your eyes,
once you put the machine on, you can still see.
What is the name of this machine? I asked,
still looking at the bookcase, as directed.
It is called Minaizar, which is a diminutive
of Minzar, the ability to see. The vision through the
Minaizar is called Nazra. Said the Cheik.
I am seeing something strange, I said. The
bookcase is suddenly huge, astronomical
But it is still visually very clear, right?
said the Cheik. Unlike the usual type of visual
enlargement, like a magnifier, which blurs
everything and forces you to step back, the
Minaizar retains its sharp image.
This is true, I said, But I feel a little
dizzy I closed my eyes to refresh them, and was
amazed that I could still see, just as the Cheik said
before. I opened my eyes and returned to the table,
sat down and looked at the book through the
machine. Geometrical forms and numerical
symbols were printed on the page I looked at. As I

was gazing at them, they opened up, unfolded, and I


saw letters coming through and appear on the page.
Everything was written in pure, original Anakh. I
could read The Book of Rama Dosh!
Here I must explain a few things about
Anakh, which would clarify my reading. Anakh
is a unique language, and has some characteristics
that no earthly language possesses. For example,
when one wants to translate a page verbally from
say, Latin to English, each person will have slight
variations on the text that they will produce. The
same would happen in simultaneous translation of
any living language by a translator in the United
Nations. Even when translating a book on paper
the variations will appear, which is making
translation more an art than a science. Not so with
Anakh.
If a hundred Ulema will verbally translate a
page written in Anakh, they will use the exact
same words, in any language they use. The same
goes for written translations. They are not really
translating. They are transmitting, rather, with the
help of the Conduit, and no variations will ever

occur.
Another interesting trait is that the phonetics
make themselves clearly heard as you read
Anakh, even if you have never seen or heard the
word you are reading. The words pronounce
themselves for you, and no mistakes are ever
made. The machine, of course, facilitates that, but
it is accomplished by the Conduit. The machine is
actually linked directly to the Conduit.
In any book, you cannot start in the middle of
a paragraph or a word and still know what the
page is all about. You must read a certain amount
to grasp the meaning. With Anakh, each word
presents its own meaning and message. There is no
need for grammatical sequences. The words,
helped by the machine, follow you, rather than you
follow them. In an ordinary book, you have to go
back to certain pages if you want to retrace
something. In Anakh, because of this tendency of
the words to follow, you dont need to go back.
Rather, you call the word to you. The simplest
analogy would be a search engine on a computer.
You type the word on a search engine, and the

connected messages appear. That is what happens


with Anakh.
When you look at a page, you encounter
about three hundred Nokta meaning spots, or
messages. You look at a certain Nokta, and it opens
up to thousands of other words and meanings.
The content is huge, but not intimidating,
since it opens up in what seems to be multiple
screens. Then, you can choose what you are
interested in.
I was reading along, finding it very easy to
understand the pure, traditional Anakh, and
completely comfortable with the viewing machine,
so much so that I no longer noticed wearing it. I
was particularly interested in the creation of
humanity, so the book took me to that moment in
time. I kept doing this, moving from one Nokta to
another, until I decided to move to another subject.
I was fascinated by what the book had to offer
regarding the dimensions and limitations of the
universe. I got the precise information I wanted
regarding the question of whether the universe is
expanding or shrinking. After that, I wandered into

a Nokta regarding the future of humanity. One thing


led to another, and I was so totally absorbed, that I
did not know if the other three were still with me
or not, and certainly did not know how much time
passed. Finally, after watching millions of years
enfold in front of me, I pulled back with a sigh.
I felt the hand of Dr. Farid on my shoulder,
and turned. Do you know that you have been
reading for two days? he asked, smiling.
Two days? I asked, startled. I did not eat,
or drink, or sleep for two full days?
Yes, said Dr. Farid. And you squeezed
millions of years into two days. Time to go.
I did not feel it. Not a bit of exhaustion or
thirst or hunger was caused by this intense study
that lasted two days. On the contrary, I felt as
comfortable and refreshed as if I came back from
vacation. I mentioned that to Dr. Farid on our way
back and he said that this was a common reaction,
though some people did feel rather exhausted.
Apparently it was an individual reaction. Still, he
advised me to go to the hotel and rest. It was early
afternoon when we arrived in Beirut, and Dr. Farid

invited me to dinner, so we could discuss the


readings. I took a nap, and then went to the
bathroom to shave and shower before meeting him
for dinner. As I finished shaving, I saw a
movement in the mirror. Next to my face in the
mirror I saw Mamas face.
I turned around, shocked. What was she
doing in Beirut? How did she arrive? How did she
enter my room, since the door was locked from the
inside? I stepped forward to hug her, but she gently
pulled back, something she had never done before.
No, my dear, you cant hug me and I instantly
knew. No! I cried. It cant be! Dont tell me!
Yes, Germain. It was my time. I had to
leave, there was no choice in the matter, Mama
said gently. But what of it? You can see that I am
here, in person, and talking to you, am I not? Death
is not the end, you know.
When did you die, Mama? I asked, my
heart almost breaking inside me. Life without
Mama how could that be? And she was still so
young, so beautiful, always healthy, other than the
touch of arthritis.

About an hour ago. I had to come and tell


you, because I did not want you to see the telegram
first. So unpleasant, those telegrams. You must
come home to the funeral. Sylvie needs you, too.
She is crying and I cant get in touch with her, she
is not like us, her road leads in other directions.
So you were always an Ulema, Mama. I
suspected that.
Yes, of course I was. Rather, I am... Lets not
talk about me as if I were in the past, my
dear!
You never told me you were an Ulema.
No, there were many reasons as to why I
was requested to keep it a secret. Some day I
will tell you all about it.
Will I see you again?
Of course you will. To begin with, lets meet
at the funeral.
You will come to your own funeral?
Naturally. I would not want to miss it. I will
be the best dressed woman there, too. I
laughed.
I cant believe I am laughing, I said. You

are dead, and I am laughing.


Dead there is no such thing as dead,
Germain. I am living in another dimension, that is
all. Laugh all you want, and never, ever cry about
me. By the way, to prove to you that you are not
hallucinating, please check your armoire when you
get home. I left you some papers there, some
requests of things to do. Not the will, that is with
the lawyers. I took care of it a while ago.
You were not sick, were you?
I was not sick. I died from a sudden, and
painless stroke.
That is good, Mama. I could not bear to think
of you suffering.
Not a minute of suffering, I promise you.
You look younger, you know, I said. Much
younger.
Yes, you leave the old body, regain a new
one. No pain of any sort. Arthritis is gone, too.
Well, my dear, I must go now. So many things one
must do at a time like this. I will see you at the
funeral. And oh, yes, you should get the telegram in
a few minutes, I think. She vanished. I stood there,

looking stupidly at the place where she stood.


There was a knock on the door, and I went an
opened it, rather automatically and without
thinking. An employee of the hotel stood there,
holding out a telegram. I did not have to read it.
*** *** ***

Lesson Eight
The Minzar, Your Mirror to
alternate Realities

Building and using the Minzar is risky. The


authors and the publisher do not take
responsibility for anything that might happen to
those who would attempt to follow these
procedures.

However, if the student reads the instructions


carefully and does not deviate from them, it should
be a reasonably safe procedure. If you choose to
try it, this may be one of the most important lessons
you will ever learn, since the benefits, both
physical and spiritual, are without equal.
Readers who are familiar with the concept
of the Anunnakis Miraya would notice a

resemblance in the way these tools are used.


However, the reader should realize that we are not
pretending to use the kind of cosmic monitor that is
connected, through the Akashic Libraries on
Nibiru, to the Akashic Record itself. It is beyond
our scope to even conceive how such a tool had
ever been created. Nor are we attempting to
recreate the kind of Minzar that is used by the
Anunnaki-Ulema, who are enlightened beings
whose Conduit has been opened. Most of us
possess a Conduit that has not been opened, and
the Minzar we recommend is fitted to our level of
advancement. Nevertheless, working with the
Minzar will open doors that will astound and
amaze any student.
You will be using the techniques to create an
alternate reality that will allow you to do things
you have never imagined are possible.
What you are aiming for is a place to which
you can retreat at will, a place where you can have
many options. It will be a place of beauty and
comfort, and it should allow you opportunities to
learn, to create, to invent, to meet compatible

people, to connect with animals, to heal, or to


simply take a vacation . The place is designed and
planned entirely by you, and is brand new. You
cannot say My new alternate reality is exactly like
Rome, Italy, because there is a good possibility
that the Conduit, confused by this mixed message,
will actually take you to Rome, Italy, in our own
world. If this happens, no real harm is done, but no
benefit will occur either. You will simply be
wandering the streets of another city, not benefiting
from the advantages of an alternate reality at all.
However, you should certainly take certain
elements from places you like, Rome included if
that is what you wish, since you are not required to
build your new reality in a vacuum.
However, dont limit yourself to one place.
You may want to copy a particular art museum
from Rome, where you can always indulge in
looking at your favorite sculptures and paintings.
Then, you might want to add the gorgeous rose
garden from the Brooklyn Botanic Gardens in New
York City. A charming old-world train station from
somewhere in Eastern Europe might make the

place more interesting, with perhaps a touch of the


Orient Express, and a sunny Mediterranean beach
would not hurt, either. How about a caf you liked
in Paris, and the cozy little library from your home
town, where you used to have so much fun during
your childhood and you knew you could find every
book that was ever written?
Design the house you would want to live in.
It may be an opulent mansion, or on the other hand,
some of us would prefer a small, simple, ruraltype house with a restful cottage garden. Its all
entirely up to you. Create your new world
carefully and dont worry if you change things
around as you go along, there is always room for
change and development. Did you suddenly
remember your trip to China and a wonderful
Pagoda you liked? Put it in. Did you enjoy your
snorkeling in Australia? Add a barrier reef.
One thing should be made entirely clear.
Any place you want is allowed, except a place
where others are hurt in any way whatsoever,
and that includes not only humans, but animals
as well.

Do not imagine a steak dinner, do not


imagine fishing, do not imagine hunting.
Dont waste your time imagining the
glories of wars.
Do not imagine a place where you demean
your spouse and yourself by having multiple
partners.
Do not imagine pornography.
Do not imagine a place where you
revenge the ills brought on you by people
you hate. Your Conduit will not accept any
action that can cause pain or even
discomfort to any living creatures.
Therefore, if you have any negative
intention, you are wasting your time.
You can build twenty Minzars, but none of
them will take you to such a place. Rather,
if you wish to heal from hurts imposed by
others, or painful addictions, imagine
yourself getting away from all and entering
a fresh new world where nothing of this
sort exists.

Rest assured that you will never meet


anyone who had ever hurt you in your new
reality.
Do this for a few weeks before you build
the Minzar, so the new place is well
established in your mind and you can
imagine it in seconds. This is essential
because contacting the new reality during
the building of the Minzar requires speed,
and no one can create a new world for
themselves in a few minutes! And most
important, dont do it as a chore. This
should be a fun, rewarding mental exercise.
There is no doubt that you will meet pleasant
people in your new reality, but there are those who
would also wish to have a guide, or a friend, to
introduce them to the new world. This is also
possible, and the directions are given below. If this
is part of your plan, by all means do the same and
imagine the person you wish to contact with. Dont
limit yourself to the kind of person you think you

should choose. The friend does not have to be a


conventional spiritual guide which is often
described by people who channel entities, such as
a Native American guide, an Asian guru, or a
guardian angel. The guide can be just about anyone
you would like to have as a friend
Prerequisites

For seventy-two hours before building the


Minzar, and before any subsequent visit to the
alternate reality, you must abstain from:
Drinking alcohol
Using any addictive substance
Eating meat.
Wearing nail polish
Do not wear clothes made of polyester.
Wear white or light colored clothes.
Imagine only positive conditions (see above
for details).

Precautions

Before starting, please read the full


instructions carefully.
These procedures are for novices, and
involve mental transportation only. If,
however, you become extremely adept, there
is a possibility of future physical
teleportation. In such event, please exercise
some logical restrictions on your activities.
For example, people who had heart
problems, pregnant women, and those with
severe arthritis, asthma, diabetes, should
not take the chance of moving physically
between realities without consulting first
with an Enlightened Master who would
advise them on the best way to proceed.
The Minzar, during building or using, may
explode. The explosion is small, and the glass
that is used does not shatter or fly around, so
you will not be hurt by it. However, if it is
built inside your home, or in any confined

area, such an occurrence may cause damage


to children, pets, furniture, or decorative
objects. The Minzar must be built in an
outdoor location, where the energy that will
be released during such an explosion will not
cause damage. You can build it in your back
yard, but if you live in an apartment in the
city, you must find an appropriate location
where you will be outside, but still have some
privacy.
A woman should not wear loose skirts,
flowing dresses, or scarves. For everyone,
close-fitting clothes, though not too tight for
comfort, are highly recommended.
Never wear clothes made of polyester.
Remove any jewelry or metal objects you
may be wearing.
You will be using dry ice. When you handle
it, make sure to wear gloves, since direct
contact with dry ice will burn your skin.
You will be using two bowls. Make sure
they are not made of metal.
When you cut the dry ice, be sure to place it

in the dry bowl. Never mix dry ice and water,


this can cause serious injury.
*** *** ***

Equipment and Supplies

The supplies required to build the Minzar are


readily available. You will need:

Laminated glass, two feet by two feet, with


rounded, smooth edges. Laminated glass is
made of two layers of glass, and it does not
shatter into sharp-edged slivers when it
breaks. It is the safest glass you can use. Have
the store cut it for you to the right dimensions.
A few pieces of charcoal
A role of aluminum foil
A very small quantity of dry ice. You will
only need a small cube, approximately the

size of a dice.
Two very thin pieces of wire, each three feet
in length
Two iron nails
A Magnet
Two plastic or glass bowls that would
contain sixteen ounces of liquid each. Never
use metal.
Lumber, enough to build a two feet by two
feet base, two inches height
Wood glue
Adhesive spray
Fabric glue
Small finishing nails
A small hammer
Water
A sheet of white linen, large enough to
create four panels that you will use to
surround yourself as you work with the
Minzar. This sheet should be made of flameretardant fabric, or if you cannot find such a
sheet, spray your linen with flame-retardant
spray.

Four Pieces of cardboard, six feet by two


feet.

Building the Minzar


Magnetize the iron nails by placing them
next to the magnet for a few hours.
Build a wooden base. It should be a simple
box, two feet by two feet, and two inches tall.
Use the wood glue and the finishing nails to
make it steady.
Fold each piece of cardboard vertically,
ending with a small pyramid measuring three
feet by two feet. Make all four can stand up
steadily.
With the fabric glue, attach four panels from
the white linen sheet to the cardboard
pyramids.
Rub the coal on one side of the glass, until it
covers the surface with a thin black film. Use
the adhesive glue spray to stabilize the film.

Allow to dry thoroughly.


From the aluminum foil, cut seven ribbons.
Each should be a little less than one inch in
width. Six of the ribbons should be exactly
two feet long, and the seventh should be two
inches longer.
Take four ribbons, not including the longer
one, and glue them to the coal covered side of
the glass. They should be placed with equal
distance between them and from the edges,
creating five equal sized spaces where the
coal dust will be visible.
Take the remaining three ribbons. They
should be glued on top of the four ribbons, but
in ninety degrees to them, creating a grid. The
longer ribbon should be glued in the middle
of the box, with an inch extending on each
side. The others should be glued with equal
distance between the middle ribbon and the
edges, creating four spaces. The grid will thus
be made of square spaces between the
ribbons.
Use the extra ribbon that is extending from

both sides to attach the wires. Each wire will


be extending vertically from the box.
Place the glass on the wooden base, coal
and ribbon side down, and clean side up.
Make sure the glass and the base are squared
and the edges are perfectly aligned.
To each wire, attach one of the magnetized
nails you have prepared in advance.
Arrange the panels around the box. There
should be one on three sides, and the fourth
one will be placed behind you.
Pour the water into one of the bowls, and
place one of the nails into it. The wire that is
attached to this nail must be fully stretched.
Cut the dry ice, wearing gloves, into a dicesized cube. Place it in the dry, empty bowl.
Remember never to mix dry ice and water!
That wire should be closer to the glass than
the one that is touching the water, so bend it
slightly.
The dry ice will produce some smoke. That
is normal, it is an effect that is often used for
theatrical production, and it will not hurt you.

Sit in front of the glass box, put the fourth


panel behind you, and close your eyes.

Contacting the Alternate Realities

Close your eyes and visualize a green,


virgin land, a place no one has ever seen
before.
Imagine, dream, and think about the land you
have been visualizing for the past few weeks.
You are bringing the things you love and want
most, the good things that you wish to see in
your life, to the green land. You are creating a
new earth, the way you want it.
There are people in the new place. You must
build places for them, streets, houses, a
wonderful city or countryside, exactly the
way you want it. Working as fast as you can,
and with your eyes still closed, in a few

minutes you will sense smoke coming from


your left side. It will not rise high, but remain
rather low, and it will creep close to the
glass. Realize that even though your eyes are
closed, you will actually see the smoke.
When you are sure you are seeing the smoke,
open your eyes.
Put both your hands on the glass, with your
fingers spread out.
Concentrate your gaze on the spaces
between the fingers. Bring to mind all the
beautiful things you imagined in the new land,
and place them in the spaces between the
fingers.
Start alternating your concentration between
the tips of your fingers and the spaces
between the fingers. Continue for about five
minutes. You will notice that the tips of your
fingers will produce light, in the form of
sparks. There will be no physical sensation
caused by these sparks.
Slide your hands closer to your body until
they are about an inch or two from your body.

Put your hands on the edges of the glass,


each on one side.
Look down into the bottom of the Minzar.
You will notice that the color of the aluminum
ribbons has changed, and that the charcoal
film looks as smooth as a marble. The glass
has turned into a black mirror, and a line of
light will vibrate on the black surface.
You will begin to see the things you have
imagined as miniatures in the black mirror.
Some will look proportional and organized.
Others will be out of proportion. They will be
moving and shifting.
You may have created a person to function
as a friend and a guide. If you did so, look for
that person in the Minzar. You will soon find
him or her, so try to increase the size of the
person. In a few seconds, the person will
acquire
dimension,
proportion,
and
personality, and will appear as real, in or out
of the Minzar. You will establish a true
rapport with him or her, though you may not
quite understand the nature of the rapport.

If what you imagined is a country, or a


place, or a house rather than a person, you
will develop the connection to it so that you
will be able to escape to this place at will.
Many students prefer creating such a place,
since, as it will most likely to have people in
it, will combine the advantages of both.

In the future, you will not need to build a second


Minzar, or even use the many steps of preparations
to envision the person or the place you have
created. They will be stored in your brain. The act
of building the Minzar was meant to trigger one of
the Conduit faculties in the brain. A rudimentary
one by comparison to what the Anunnaki-Ulema
can do, but of great benefit none the less. You
could not, for example, simply buy a ready-made
black mirror, and work with it. You must follow
the step-by-step the creation of the Minzar to
achieve the effect.
It will be a good idea to throw out the
unnecessary equipment, such as the nails, the

bowls, etc., but keep the Minzar, which has turned


into a beautiful black mirror, as a stimulus for the
activity.
You can go into the new country anytime you
wish. It is a physical place, located in a different
dimension, but just as real as this one. When you
go there, you can spend months in that time frame,
while here on earth only a few minutes will pass.
That is because the Conduit allows you to
duplicate yourself, to create a double, and time is
different in other dimensions. What you can do
there is limitless. You can simply rest and enjoy a
place that will never hurt you, a vacation from the
trials and tribulations in the here and now.
Or, perhaps, you wish to create something.
Lets say you want to write a screenplay, and can
never find the time or the leisure to do it here.
Well, you can go to your special place for the
duration of the time you need for writing this
screenplay, and come back to your present
existence after a few seconds of leaving it. The
advantage will be that you have written the play
and it is all there in your memory, one hundred

percent of it. All you will need is the short time


needed to type it.
Or perhaps you are not well, and you would
like to see the doctors and the hospitals you have
created at this new environment. It is quite likely
that they may have a cure for at least some ailments
it wont hurt to try.
Possibly you wanted to build a magnificent
library, containing an enormous number of books.
By all means, this is a wonderful experiment, with
one added bonus. When you are at this library,
make a note of certain titles/authors which you
have never heard of before. Then, when you are
back home, ask a librarian, or check the Internet, to
see if such titles/authors exist.
If they do, it would be a proof that you have
not been hallucinating! Or perhaps you would like
to try a new career, see how it feels to become a
teacher, or a singer, or a trapeze artist. Why not try
it? You are the best judge on what you wish to
accomplish!

*** *** ***

Subsequent Visits to the Alternate Realities

After the initial visit to the alternate reality, you


will no longer need to use the Minzar. As
mentioned before, some students find it easier to
look at the Minzar for a while before attempting
the visit, but it is not entirely necessary.
The best time to visit is your usual bed time.
Before you go to sleep, just lie down on your
bed. Generally, it is best to lie on your right
side, to avoid pressure on the heart.
Close your eyes. Think about the place you
want to visit. Draw as clear a picture of it in
your mind as you can. At this point, remember
the way your hands were placed on the
Minzar, and imagine yourself behind your
fingers.
Tell yourself the first activity you wish to
perform during your visit.

For seven to ten seconds, do not think at all.


Make your mind completely blank.
Do not be startled amazing things will
begin to happen now. Images will float before
your eyes, you will hear sounds, or noises.
This is called The buzzing of the mind.
At this moment, the preliminary rapport is
established between the necessary cell in
your Conduit and your double in the alternate
reality. The cell will zoom you there and your
double will be your guide. In other words, the
cell acts as your vessel, and the double as the
pilot.
As soon as you arrive, the double will stop
all activities and instantly merge with you.
Your visit has begun.

*** *** ***

Benefits and Advantages

Beside the pleasure and learning experiences that


you gain through your trips to the alternate reality,
there are several concrete advantages that will
manifest themselves very soon in your normal
reality.

You will be less tense or nervous.


You will gradually lose any phobia that
might have tormented you for many years,
perhaps all your life.
Your physical health will improve.
You will be able to work efficiently, since
you will bring with you some very important
creations, plans, or thoughts from your
alternate reality. Such products or services
will be performed in much greater speed
since they have been rehearsed in the
alternate reality.
You can learn languages with surprising
speed since you can actually learn them first
in the alternate reality, and the memory is

retained. That applies to other skills, such as


computer skills, art, music, and many others.
You will put every moment to good
advantage. If you hate waiting in line, or
sitting in the doctors office, or listening to
your boss droning on and on while of course
you cannot put a stop to the conversation, just
hop to the new reality for a few minutes, and
do something fun or creative there. Of course,
for these few moments you will be out of
touch with your earth body, but you will be
recalled back quickly as soon as needed.
Obviously, using this quick hop you will
never be bored again, ever. To complement
this activity, it is advisable to always carry a
notepad and a pen in case you wish to quickly
record an experience.

Returning to Your Regular Reality on Earth

We must note that there is never any need for


fear. Some people are concerned that the body that
they have left on earth when visiting their alternate
reality might be exposed to harm, perhaps even
attacked. There is no reason for such fear. First of
all, with the exception of the first time, when you
originally build the Minzar, you will usually do it
in the privacy of your own bedroom, and alone.
Second, no matter how long you will spend
in your alternate reality, you will return to your
body seconds after you left it in our reality here,
since time flows very differently in the alternate
reality, and the Conduit knows how to handle it.
The only thing you should be concerned about is
not to come back into the body too quickly. If you
panic suddenly and zoom into your body, you may
harm it by this speed. You are perfectly safe, so
come back easily and slowly.
The best procedure for a beginner is to
spend the time and enjoy the stay in the alternate
reality without worrying about coming back. The
first few times would not take long, since you are

so new at it, anyway. After a while, your stays will


be extended. In both cases, after what seems to be
minutes, hours, days, or months, since it really
does not matter how long you are there, suddenly
you will remember that you left your body behind.
For a few seconds, you are not sure which part of
you is real, and it may create the sense of fear
discussed above. Remember there is nothing to
fear, your Conduit is in control, and it knows what
it is doing. So when this moment arrives, allow
yourself to relax, and in seconds you will be aware
that you are back in the presence of your normal
earth body. Do not rush, and do not bunch yourself
quickly into the body from either side. Instead,
help your Conduit by hovering horizontally right
above your body, and then settling peacefully into
it. Most likely that will be followed by a few
minutes sleep, after which you will wake up
refreshed and in complete memory of your
activities in the alternate reality.

Chapter Nine:
Assuming My Responsibilities
Mamas funeral
Mamas description and explanation of the
Afterlife
Discussion with Sylvie about Mamas last
wishes and instructions
Sylvies wedding

Reporting for duty at the Pres du


Triangles Lodge
Assuming My Responsibilities
Enlightenment and acceptance.

The day was dark and dank, and the wind was
blowing, but fortunately it did not rain. I stood by
the open grave among the many, many friends and
associates that came to wish Mama the last

goodbye. I felt lonely and isolated. Yes, she came


to see me in Beirut, and told me that life is not over
when we cross to the other side. But life here and
now, without Mama in the background, was so sad,
so empty. I missed her.
Now, what is the sad face all about? I heard
Mamas voice. I turned around. She was standing
next to me, dressed most appropriately in a
superbly elegant black suit, complete with highheeled patent leather black shoes and a huge widebrimmed black hat, and leaning on a black
umbrella with a silver handle. If I were not
surrounded by so many people, I would have had
to laugh she was so chic at her own funeral.
Nice hat, I whispered, turning to the side so no
one would think I was talking to myself. Sylvie,
who was standing next to me on the other side, was
crying and saw nothing.
Yes, I think the black roses are a nice touch, dont
you? said Mama, adjusting her black lace gloves.
And you are taller than me with those high heels.
You could not wear high heels for years for the
arthritis. Is it really gone?

Oh, its gone completely, said Mama. Being


dead feels very healthy.
You dont look a bit dead, I said. And here I
am, mourning you. And Sylvie is so unhappy. Just
look as how she is crying.
I cant help Sylvie, my dear. She is not an Ulema,
and she cant see me. I hope she will soon recover.
She is a strong girl, and her fianc will help. He is
such a good young man.
But I am going to miss you so much, Mama.
I will miss you too, Germain. Of course we will
miss each other. But think about it as a temporary
situation. Surely you realize that when your turn
comes, we will meet again?
Yes, I understand that. Still I wish you could
visit every so often.
But you know I cant. That is the last time I can
come, but I will be watching over you and
whenever I can, I will send you a little sign. Dont
be sad, my son. Life is going to be busy and active
for you, you will do much good, and when you are
finished here, I promise I will come to help you
cross.

Thank you, Mama. That is a nice thing to look


forward to.
If you stay over after the funeral, we can take a
little walk and Ill tell you about the Afterlife. Its
great fun.
I have never heard the Afterlife described as fun,
but that was Mama all over. Certainly, Ill stay.
Ill tell Sylvie to take everyone home and Ill come
later.
And when you do get home, dont forget to look
for the papers and instructions I left in your
armoire, in your room. You must get everything in
order before you leave.
Am I leaving? Where will I go? Where will they
send me to?
All over the world, I think. You will travel a great
deal. But dont worry. Follow your road, and
Sylvie will take care of the business. She is well
suited for the work and she loves it, while you
need to spread your wings.
The funeral was over, the soil put over the grave,
and people came to shake Sylvies and my hand. I
took Sylvie aside and said, Would you mind very

much if I stay here for a little while? I need some


time alone.
Sylvie looked at me. I had a feeling she knew more
than I suspected, but said nothing.
Certainly, she said. Ill take everyone home and
give them drinks, Jean Claude will help me.
I returned to Mama, who was looking sadly at
Sylvie. Its really too bad I cant talk to her, she
said to me, but some day, of course, she will
know, like everyone else. Ah, well, lets go to the
more secluded areas. We dont want people to
think you are talking to yourself. We wandered
around the cemetery. Pere Lachaise is one of the
most beautiful cemeteries in the world, full of
trees, impressive statues, and old tombstones.
Shady lanes provided privacy, and we could talk
freely.
So tell me what you saw in the Afterlife, Mama,
I said.
I have not been there very long, you know, but
time and space play a different role there, and also,
what I knew from before allows me to understand
what it is really like and what will happen next,

said Mama. You will also know, when the time


comes.
Doesnt everyone know?
No, many of the dead dont realize that they are
dead. They dont seem to see the border between
life and Afterlife. These people can be very
anxious. They sometimes try to get back to earth,
meet their loved ones, and they are very upset
when the living cannot see them.
So what happens to them?
The guides, spirits of higher dimensions, help
them realize that they are dead. Sometimes, if a
person had a real need to go back to earth to
accomplish something, the guides are saddened by
their pain, and allow them to go back, manifest,
and complete their task. Once they do that, they can
come back, much happier and calmer. It only
happens once, of course, but after that they are
ready to adjust to the Afterlife.
What is it like, over there? Were you scared when
you passed on?
There is nothing frightening about the afterlife,
said Mama. It is very much like earth, but

peaceful, much more beautiful, and there is no


strife or violence of any kind. To the departed, who
have shed their bodies and are occupying a new
body, it is as physical as the earth is to the living.
Everyone is healthy, there is no disease, no pain,
no violence. There are cities with streets and
buildings, gardens and parks, countryside all
seems normal, like a poetic interpretation of life.
You will see millions of people, coming and going
in huge waves. There is much to do, since the
place you come to first is no more than a quick
stop. You only stay there for twenty to thirty days,
and then move on.
Do they know where they are going?
It depends. I do, because the Ulema told me. Most
people cannot see what is ahead of them, only what
is behind them. But they always move on to a
higher phase.
So naturally they are a bit scared of the
unknown.
Yes, some of them experience anxiety. That is
what the twenty to thirty days period is for,
deciding what needs to be done. And they are

helped by the guides, or by people who chose to


stay longer in this place.
So you can stay there longer?
Yes, there are various options, of course. One
option is to go to the place you have created when
you built your Minzar and planned a place of rest
and happiness. Many people choose to go there for
a while it is up to them how long they would stay
there. Time is not really a very important issue in
the Afterlife. You can stay there forever if you like
it very much.
The place created with the Minzar must be very
appealing to most people, I should say, I said.
Its custom made for your own happiness.
Yes, and the person already has friends, a place to
stay, things to do, anything he or she likes best. Its
a good option. But eventually, I would say one
should try to evolve into the higher dimensions.
You dont know what you miss unless you see it.
When I built the Minzar, Rabbi Mordechai told
me that I could not stay in the place I created for
too long, since the energy would dissipate and the
living body will call me back. But I suppose its

different when one is dead.


Yes, since this is now part of the depot of
knowledge located in your brain, which was
created by the Minzar experience. It is called
Spatial Memory.
So you plan to move on after the thirty days?
Yes. It is as it should be, and I want to evolve into
the higher dimensions. But as I promised, I will
come back for you and be your guide when it is
your time to follow me. Think about it as a short,
though necessary separation, but temporary all the
same. What it all comes down to, Germain, is that
there is no death. And the Afterlife offers so many
opportunities for new growth, new knowledge.
There is nothing to fear.
Will you see Papa? Will I see him when I go
there?
Of course we will. Do not worry and do not
mourn me, Germain.
I will try not to, Mama. I promise.
Well, my son, I will be leaving now. No need to
say goodbye. Rather, au revoir. I closed my eyes,
not wishing to see her leave, and felt something

brush my cheek as if she kissed me. When I opened


my eyes, there was no sign of her. She was gone. I
went home and helped Sylvie attend to the visitors;
I had never felt so numb.
*** *** ***
That evening I went up to my room to check
for Mamas instructions. Sure enough, a fat yellow
envelope was placed in the drawer of the empty
armoire. If I had suspected that my visions of
Mama were hallucinations, here was the proof that
they were not. But I did not suspect that at all, I
knew that I saw what I saw. I took the envelope to
the desk and turned on the light. I was sure there
was a lot of business papers to see to, and I was
planning on studying them and then passing them on
to Sylvie and her fianc. But I could not do much
work that evening when I saw that on top of the
business papers was one sheet of lavender paper,
the paper Mama always used for her personal
correspondence. You see, Germain, was written
on the paper, you did not hallucinate. I really

came and gave you these instructions. Have a good


time and never be afraid of death again! Its just a
transit from one place to another, and we still are
ourselves, wherever we go. Bless you, my dear,
and we shall meet again. I put the paper down. I
needed to think of all she told me. I missed her,
missed her terribly, and always will, but she
succeeded in one thing, and that was very
important. I would never again be afraid of death.
There was nothing to be afraid of, if Mama was
there to greet me when I come.
After a while, I read Mamas directions, and
they were simple enough. Mostly, it contained
instructions of how to transfer the business to
Sylvie, and how to help her to proceed. The rest
was how to dispose of certain items, and what to
give to a few people. Not exactly a will, since the
official will was in the hands of the lawyers, but
extra little things she knew she could trust me to
carry out, mostly of emotional rather than material
issues. A knock on my door interrupted my
thoughts, and Sylvie came in, carrying an envelope
in her hands.

Germain, she said in a rather hesitating manner,


I have no idea where this came from. It was not
on my desk this morning, and now it was. It is from
Mama. She looked a little scared, so I thought
quickly and told her it was I who put it there.
It was inside the enveloped addressed to me that I
found in my armoire I lied. Mama must have left
it there by mistake, when she left me my
instructions. Sylvie looked relieved. She was
never involved in any supernatural or Ulema
business, but a smart girl like her, living her entire
life with Mama, must have suspected some things.
But it was not her way or her inclination, and it
was best not to involve her in such matters.
She opened the envelope, and inside was one sheet
of paper. She looked at it, and shook her head in
surprise. Germain, it is a letter from Mama. She
says I am to take over the business and let you go
ahead with your studies and your involvement with
your organization. Is that what you want? Dont
you want to take over the business, or at least do it
together? I will agree to whatever you want.
That is what she wrote to me too, Sylvie. She

knew what she was doing. I am sure tomorrow,


when we read the will, the same wishes will be
stated officially. As for how I feel, I am very happy
about it. Had she wanted me to take over the
business, I would have honored her wish. But it
would have been a burden, since I want to do other
things and you have always liked the business
and helped Mama for years.
Yes, I could do it, Germain, but I would never
want to deprive you, had you wanted it. I would
have loved doing it together, too.
You are the best sister in the world, Sylvie. Thank
you. But I think I should pursue what both Mama
and I knew I was best at. The organization is
interested in grooming me for diplomatic work,
you know. Its not bad at all.
I dont know much, Germain. There is so much I
have always tried not to notice. I am not good at
such matters. She seemed very uneasy.
We dont need to discuss my work, Sylvie. Its a
little mysterious, granted, but honest and good, so
its all right. I will be doing a great deal of
traveling, though. Will you be comfortable here

without me?
Its too big for me with just the servants, said
Sylvie. To tell you the truth, I think I should get
married as soon as possible. A very quiet wedding
of course, since Mama passed away, just you, our
aunt, and Jean Claudes family. Then he can move
in with me, and we can run the business. He is a
lawyer, and this would help, and I wont be
alone.
This is an excellent plan. A simple, quiet wedding
would be best, of course. A big celebration would
not be worth much without Mama, would it?
No, it would not. The whole world is not the
same without Mama. But this is the best way, I
think.

*** *** ***

And so it was. A couple of months later, we quietly


celebrated Sylvies wedding, and she and her
husband went on a short vacation, just a few days

in Florence. They were to come back in less than a


week, and start working. Everything at home
would continue as it was, the old servants would
stay with Sylvie, the nuns would still be helped by
her. All was just as Mama would want it.
That night I sat in my room, looking again at
Mamas last letter to me. I sat there for a long time,
holding the paper in my hands. It retained the
delicate scent that it always had, and I felt Mama
was not far away. I thought about my life, my
amazing past, my incredible future, and realized
that the time has come to move on. I got up, went to
the phone, and called Bernard, asking him to
arrange a meeting with the Pres du Triangle
Masters at the Lodge. The next day would be
Thursday, just the right time to speak to the Grand
Master.

The next day, at the Lodge, the meeting went on as


usual. I sat next to Bernard, saying nothing, and
listened to the plans and the discussion. Every so
often, I felt the eyes of the Grand Master on me. As

always, he was rather impressive in his white


outfit and headgear, which made him look much
taller than he really was. We had arranged for an
interview after the meeting. When everything was
over, and the members dispersed, Bernard said
goodbye and left, but I stayed in my seat and
waited. In a few minutes the Grand Master came
toward me, and I got up. He shook my hand very
kindly. I am sorry about your mothers passing,
Germain, he said, but I am sure she contacted
you, did she not, after her death?
Yes, sir, she did, I said. I suspected he might
have seen her at the funeral, since his powers were
greater than mine and he was not standing far from
us during our conversation, but he maintained his
discretion and said nothing about it. We entered his
office and sat at both sides of his large, empty
desk. I waited.
Like everything else in life, this meeting was not
what I expected. Somehow, I assumed the Grand
Master would lecture me on my destiny, life plans,
future duties. I expected a dramatic, paternal kind
of talk, a sort of blessing, perhaps. It was nothing

of the sort. The Pres du Triangle are very


pragmatic people.
So Bernard tells me you are ready to work,
Germain? the Grand Master said, removing his
head dress and wiping his bald head with a
handkerchief.
Yes, sir. I am ready to start any time you want me
to.
They tell me that your linguistic capabilities are
superb. How many languages do you know now?
Twenty one, I said, Including some ancient
ones.
I know you are familiar with Arabic, but I assume
Italian and Swahili are among the other languages
you know?
I am extremely comfortable with both languages,
sir, I said.
We have a business deal that will take you from
Dubai to Italy, and then to Mozambique. Could you
be ready within a week?
Yes, sir.
Come back tomorrow morning to my office, and I
will brief you on all the details. The sooner you

go, the better, this is a very delicate affair. We have


all your papers ready, everything is arranged.
Ill go and pack my bags, sir.
The Lodge was rather far from home, but I
was in the mood for a long walk. It was a warm,
wet night, a high wind was blowing, and the trees
cast moving, dancing shadows over the brightly lit
streets of Paris. My mind was bursting with
images, mirroring each other, glittering, promising,
following my past and future road. This very
evening, the second part of my life had just begun,
though how it would unfold was still shrouded in
mystery.
I found myself near the Seine, and followed
one of the massive stone staircases that led to it,
wishing to be near the water. The wind followed
me, blowing autumn leaves in little swirls. The
water was dark, illuminated by myriads of tiny
lights, particularly when one of the excursion boats
traveled silently by, leaving strings and ribbons of
light behind it, and delicate white mists floated
low on the water. I heard a disjointed bit of an old
song drifting from the boat, telling of autumn

leaves and someone that was never forgotten, and I


thought of all the people that I would never forget
no matter where my road would take me. I felt
alone in a world of mist and darkness,
remembering things past and feeling somehow
lonely.
Then, at this moment of reflection, something
totally unexpected happened, not with any sudden
burst, but in a very gentle and comfortable fashion.
I simply knew, with a deep, abiding conviction,
that I was not at all alone, that I was connected by
unending threads to everything that ever was, is, or
will be, that I had my place in time and space, and
that indeed, as Baalshamroot tried to tell me, we
were all one. With a sense of humility and
gratefulness, I finally accepted that I was a true
Anunnaki-Ulema, now and forever.

*** *** ***

Appendix
On the Road to Ultimate Knowledge, Book
Two:
The Return of Germain Lumire

Soon to be published, this book tells about the life


of Germain Lumire as a mature man and a fullfledged Ulema Master. It will tell much about the
adventures,
intrigues,
and
relationships
experienced by him. We will meet old and new
friends and foes, and continue to advance on the
road to the ultimate knowledge with a guide like no
other. The authors are extremely grateful to Master
Germain Lumire for his kind permission to write
and publish this book.

Prologue
A Journey to Maalula, and Meeting Saint Tekla

My training usually allowed me to keep panic at


bay, to look for opportunities rather than allow fear
to get in the way of solutions. But this time, I was
in a predicament that was, to say the least,
intimidating. After beating me thoroughly, and then
promising me that unless I talked, I would be
executed at dawn, my captors locked me in a small
cell in their infamous prison. This was not the first
time I had been arrested, during the ten years since
my first assignment for the Pres du Triangle, but I
have always been able to get myself out, either by
normal means or by the special techniques my
teachers instructed me in.
This time, the normal means did not work, as was
evident from my black and blue body and the cell I
was locked into, and for some reason which I
could not understand at the time, my special
techniques seemed to be blocked by some agency
that was not visible to me. No matter what I tried, I
could not perform any of my escape routes, and my

attempts to contact any of my friends through


telepathic means seemed to be blocked as well. At
the time, at thirty-five years of age, I was not as yet
at my full capacity, which one acquires only at age
forty and after additional tests, but I have never
failed so miserably before, and I was not sure what
to do. In addition, I was in great pain, because
trying so hard to escape prevented me from
concentrating on healing the damage my captors
did to me through their beatings.
So I sat on the floor and reflected. Since the spirit
of my mother came to see me, on the day of her
death, I was not afraid of dying, so the threat of
execution at dawn did not cause me despair.
However, I knew I should try to go on living
because my tasks on this plane of existence were
not even near completion. According to my
masters predictions, I expected to live into old
age, so execution at thirty-five was not in the plan.
Also, my sister and her family would be very
unhappy, and so would Rabbi Mordechai and
Master Li. Well, I said loudly, I believe I have
exhausted all my options. I cant see a way out, but

nevertheless, something must turn up. What could


turn up in a tiny cell without a window, lit by a
single bare light bulb on a very high ceiling, with a
heavy metal door that was barred and locked from
the outside, and not a single piece of furniture, I
did not know, but physical reality was not the only
one I was familiar with. I decided to try something
I had never dared to try before contacting the
Anunnaki themselves. I had met with some of them,
but always through my own masters, or other
teachers. Still, I always knew that some day I
would have to try it on my own, and this seemed to
be the right time. Without debating the issue any
further, I acted on my decision. I cleared my mind,
ignored my pain and my desire to escape, and
aligned myself with my Conduit. If I succeeded, I
knew that something, or someone, will indeed turn
up.
Almost instantly, a bright yellow shaft of light
appeared in the cell. Dusty and shifting, with
particles moving in it at random motion, it looked
like a very large sunbeam coming through a
window in the late afternoon. The small particles

swirled wildly, then suddenly stopped, and


coagulated into a globe in the center of the shaft of
light, while the rest of it remained bright and
empty. I smiled at it, knowing very well what will
happen next, but was entranced by the sight, as
always. The speed of its arrival made me suspect
that the whole thing was a test did the Anunnaki,
or my masters, felt that I had postponed making
contact for too long? They would not hesitate to put
me through the horrible ordeal if they felt that this
was the only way to make me try the contact. No,
they would not hesitate, despite the agony and
trauma it would cause me; nor did I resent it, if it
were a true test. Sometimes, harsh measures must
be taken, as any Ulema would know. I forgot the
issue in my joy of watching the light.
The globe burst into fireworks, which then
rearranged themselves into the shape of a baby.
The baby did not stay small, but started expanding,
filling out the shaft in a distorted shape of a human
being, whose face was blurred. Very quickly, the
shape corrected itself into a proper human form,
and stepped out of the shaft of light. Yes, I was

honored by the presence of an Anunnaki who came


to my rescue.
The Anunnaki was dressed in the long white robe,
usually worn by these visitors whenever they came
to Earth, and a head covering that hid most of the
face, except the eyes, which glittered like those of
a wolf. Slowly, the glow subsided, and the eyes
became dark, almost black, and unusually large.
I knew these eyes. They had haunted me for ten
years, ever since I met their owner when I attended
her lecture in Lebanon, just before I was permitted
to study the Book of Rama Dosh. These dark eyes
never left my thoughts, waking or dreaming. I rose
from the floor with difficulty, due to the severe
pain, and bowed deeply. Sinhar Baalshamroot.
You have come to help me, and I am honored and
grateful. I did not presume to think that you had
remembered of my existence.
Of course I remember your existence, she said
simply. I am your Watcher, Germain. I gasped
with astonishment and disbelief. My Watcher?
Baalshamroot? I did not know, I said humbly. I
had no idea... Theoretically, I knew that every

Ulema had his or her Watcher, and I suspected I


must have one, but why Baalshamroot? Of all
Anunnaki, how did she become my Watcher?
I chose to be your Watcher after we met at the
lecture in Lebanon, she said, answering my
unasked question. When I met you, I knew that you
might need me.
Need her? I would certainly agree to that. Meeting
Baalshamroot terminated any possibility of my
having a normal relationship with an earth woman.
This magnificent Anunnaki, so much above me in
every way, was still the only one I could ever love,
for the rest of my life, or even beyond this life. But
of course I could not tell her so; a human is a lowly
creature to an Anunnaki, an insignificant creature...
and yet she chose me. It was sufficient that she was
my Watcher, and it brought me more happiness than
a million years with an earth woman could bring. I
sighed and asked the question that was important
for me to know.
Was being captured and beaten a test, Sinhar
Baalshamroot? Was I supposed to make a contact
with you before and neglected to do so in my

stupidity?
Yes, it was a test. A harsh one, and I am sorry
about that, but for whatever reason you kept
postponing making a contact, which is a very
important skill and we must be sure you know how
to do it. I hope you do not resent the serious
discomfort this test had brought you.
I am more than happy about the test. Any amount
of pain is worth it, if it makes me know that you
are my Watcher, Sinhar Baalshamroot.
That is good. Well, before we go on, lets take
care of the pain from the beatings, said
Baalshamroot, and made a motion with her hands.
A soft breeze enveloped me; I could almost see a
blue tinge in the air around me as the breeze blew
and wafted around my body. In a few minutes, not
only all the pain and bruises were gone, but the dry
blood on my face and hands disappeared, I felt as
clean as if I had taken a good bath, and my clothes,
which a few minutes ago were filthy and torn,
became spotless and mended.
That is better, said Baalshamroot. And now, we
should leave this miserable place and go on a

journey.
Where are we going? I asked.
To the little town of Maalula, near Damascus,
said Baalshamroot. I am sure you have heard of
it.
Yes, I have heard of it, since I lived in Damascus
during my childhood, I said. But I never visited
the place. It is a Christian outpost, isnt it, a rather
unusual place in a Muslim country?
Yes, it is, said Baalshamroot. But the reason I
want us to go there is that it is also my own
birthplace.
Your birthplace, Sinhar Baalshamroot? But you
are an Anunnaki. Were you not born on Nibiru?
I am an Anunnaki by genetics, my entire DNA is
Anunnaki. As you know, some people are,
particularly in that part of the world, since it was
an Anunnaki outpost long before it was a human
habitat. But like the others of my kind, I was born
on Earth, and had to pass through a baab and
change my body considerably when I was a very
young earth woman, about two thousand years ago.
I really was an earth woman, Germain, which is,

partially, the reason why I chose to be your


Watcher. I do understand earth people very well.
Thoughts were racing through my mind. I heard
about a few people who had passed through the
baabs and became full Anunnaki. I never knew
who and why. Could I achieve that? Were my genes
sufficiently of Anunnaki origin? I had no idea. And
if I could, and changed myself enough to be
accepted by the Anunnaki society, would I be
worthy of their respect, enough so as to be able to
tell Baalshamroot how much I loved her? By
Anunnaki standards, Baalshamroot was very
young, she still was a part of our earthly history. I
have heard of earth people marrying Anunnaki who
were hundreds of thousands of years old but I
forced myself to stop thinking on these lines. It was
not the time to think about such matters; I had to
remember, always remember, that I was a lowly
creature, a worm, standing next to this glorious,
enlightened being.
Yes, I want you to see my birthplace and to learn
who I am, since I will be your Watcher for the rest
of your life. And after that, when you pass on to the

next phase, we shall remain friends, Germain,


perhaps I will even be permitted to guide you
further on your evolution. An Anunnaki does not
offer such a friendship lightly, nor does she ever
desert her charges.
Thank you, Sinhar Baalshamroot. I have no words
to tell you, you cannot know how happy that makes
me, I said.
But I do know, she said simply and kindly. I do,
and it makes me happy, too. And now, lets go.
She took my hand, and in an instant we were out of
the cell, in the dusty street in front of the prison.
Two of may captors were leaning against the
prisons door, smoking cigarettes and chatting; they
did not see us. Baalshamroot looked at them
dispassionately, but with obvious distaste.
They are evil, she said. Stupid and evil and
unnecessary. Should I kill them? Would you like
me to destroy them?
No, they are not worth the trouble, they are not the
masterminds, I said. If you kill them, their bosses
will find new ones and corrupt their minds, too.
We might as well just leave. They may even be

killed by their associates, because I disappeared


from the cell, anyway.
Very well, she said. You are right. Lets go.

***

In a blink of an eye, we were in Maalula. The little


town itself, which I knew contained less than two
thousand people, was not very remarkable. It
consisted of small and drab stone buildings with
flat roofs, painted tan and blue, huddling against
each other in very close proximity. The air was hot
and the light very strong, but it was far from a
desert-like environment, since a belt of greenery,
including fig trees and grape vines, enlivened the
landscape, and patches of herbs and greenery
appeared here and there. A sleepy and
uninteresting town, but the huge mass of rocks that
encircled these houses was more than impressive.
The rocks, situated on the eastern slopes of the Al
Kalamun mountains, formed sheer cliffs that

dwarfed the human habitation into a beehive


perching on the top of an abyss. The slopes were
covered with boulders and had deep caverns, some
natural, some carved by humans since time
immemorial. Baalshamroot looked around her
affectionately. I have come to visit often since I
had turned into a full-fledged Anunnaki. It had not
changed all that much over the centuries, she said.
The monasteries are attractive. There are two;
one is called Mar Sarkis, or Saint Sergius, and the
other is Convent of Mar Tekla, of the orthodox
faith. We are going there.
Why this one? I said.
Because it was named after me. I would like you
to see it, and a special little cave behind it, when I
tell you my story.
Named after you, Sinhar Baalshamroot? I asked,
perplexed. But its called Saint Teklas!
Yes, of course, said Baalshamroot, smiling.
You see, Germain, I was Tekla. In a way, I still
am Tekla, though I do not like to think of myself in
the ridiculous mode of a Christian Saint...
I was quite confused, but kept silent and waited to

see what will happen, not wishing to annoy


Baalshamroot with too many questions, a habit that
I once had and took many years to overcome. We
proceeded toward our destination. The building
was constructed on several levels, giving it a
certain elegance, all built from ancient mellowtoned stones. Following the stairs, we reached the
top floor where I saw a church with a dome and a
cave into which filtered a stream of water. The
whole place was almost empty of people, and had
a serene and quiet atmosphere.
Do you know, the people here still speak
Aramaic? said Baalshamroot.
No, I did not know that. I knew that it was an
enclave of Christianity, but I did not know they
spoke Aramaic. I imagine you mean mostly Syriac,
the modern Aramaic?
Yes, unfortunately, mostly the modern dialect, but
it is not all that different. I am sure if Paul
preached today, he would have been understood by
everyone.
Paul?
Yes, Paul of Tarsus. The one who used poor Jesus

of Nazareth as an excuse to convert people to his


own new religion.
So you knew Paul personally?
Yes, I knew him well. Very well. Not at first,
though. He was already a wandering preacher,
well traveled, when I was only eighteen, the
daughter of Onesiphorus and Theodosia, a wealthy
couple, highly respected in the community. I was
considered a very beautiful girl, and happily
engaged to a young man named Thamyris, who also
came from a very good family. My parents and his
arranged the match, as was the custom then, but he
loved me very much. I thought I loved him, and I
believed he was so good and kind. Ah, well, few
humans are, really, but at the time I could not tell,
and I thought I was human myself. In those days,
we knew nothing of DNA, and I have never so
much as heard of the Anunnaki. The plans for a
sumptuous wedding were being made, when Paul
of Tarsus came to Maalula. It so happened that I
was sitting at a window from which you could hear
every word Paul spoke at a nearby house. His
doctrine, during this first lecture, hypnotized me. I

thought Heavens opened before me.


What did he talk about?
At first, of Jesus Christ, claiming that he was our
savior and the son of God. I was an ignorant girl,
since girls were only taught the domestic arts and a
little reading and writing. I knew nothing of any
spiritual or intellectual matters, but the Anunnaki
genetics were strong, and I longed for this
dimension in my life, not knowing what I longed
for. Pauls discussion of things beyond everyday
reality strongly appealed to me. But what he aimed
at, mostly, was the concept of chastity, and that
appealed to me even more. He claimed that our
views were all wrong. We were taught that our
entire existence and our chance to immortality
depended on having as many children as possible,
and that procreation was a womans only choice
for a good life. I believed it, of course, and
planned on having many children. But Paul was
saying that having children, marital relations, any
sexual contact at all was bad, wrong, and would
prevent our resurrection and our entrance into the
Kingdom of Heaven. I suppose that as a genetic

Anunnaki, I already felt that sexual relations, as


conducted by humans, were wrong. As you know,
Anunnaki couples are united by the Mingling of
Lights, not by physical contact, and that human
sexuality is merely a faint imitation of the joy of
the Union I did not know it consciously, but the
concept that something else was more important
than our idea of the necessity of procreation
appealed to me. I listened to him, on and off, for
three days, and became convinced that everything
he said was true, including his theory about the
godhood of Jesus Christ, which later I found to be
a pure invention. I was so convinced of his truth,
that I broke my engagement to Thymaris. And that
was the beginning of my real troubles, since he
was rather vengeful and even cruel. In addition, my
parents were distraught.
So what happened next?
If you come into the cave, not this one where the
water is dribbling, but my own cave, where I hid
later, I will use a Miraya to show you how the
events occured. It is more private than this cave,
since pilgrims think this one, with the water, is my

cave, and believe the water has miraculous healing


properties. We will not be disturbed in the other
cave. Some of these events I want to tell you about
are hard to believe, unless seen in person. Mind
you, the legends told about me now, thousands of
years after the fact, are not all true, of course, and
Paul tried to erase my memory from his writings,
as well, and with some success.
We climbed a narrow flight of stairs, carved into
the wall of the mountain, and eventually entered a
small cave. Several large, smooth stones were
scattered on the ground. These stones were here
two thousand years ago, said Baalshamroot. I sat
on one of them when I was resting, after I ran away
from my pursuers do sit down, and Ill start
showing you the events.
I sat on a large, smooth stone, rested my head on
the wall, and waited. It was dark inside after the
blinding sunlight outside, and slightly dank, but
cool and not unpleasant, and even though
Baalshamroots blue breeze cured me of the pain I
suffered from the beating, I was still a little tired,
and the respite was welcome. Baalshamroot

removed a small Miraya from around her neck, and


directed it toward the wall of the cave. As usual
when using a Miraya, a small window of light
appeared on the wall, then grew to the size of a
large television screen. A picture appeared. A
young woman of superb beauty was standing
before what appeared to be a court of law. She
wore a simple white dress, lightly embroidered in
blue, and a large necklace of gold and turquoise
hung around her neck. The girl looked like
Baalshamroot, but not entirely. If I had not known
these two were the same person, I would have
thought they were relatives. Baalshamroots face
was sculptured and spiritual. Teklas face was still
rounded and had on it the innocence of youth. But
you could not mistake the huge dark eyes. Also, the
coal-black hair, long and loose over her shoulders,
and the clear, glowing olive skin, betrayed the
Anunnaki genetics. The magistrate was looking at
her in a severe way. Why have you turned away
from your marriage, Tekla? asked the magistrate.
Dont you know this is a crime? Are you not
ashamed?

I wish to follow Jesus Christ and Paul of Tarsus,


said the girl. I wish to learn and to preach the
truth of God.
Paul of Tarsus is a criminal. He was already
thrown into prison, and will eventually be put to
death for perverting this town, said the magistrate.
I am surprised he was allowed to pass through so
many towns and was not arrested before. As for
Jesus Christ, he is nothing but a bad dream, my
girl. Such a thing as the Son of God does not exist.
It is evil and stupid. Forget all that, return to your
family, and behave sensibly, or else, I will
condemn you.
I cannot turn back on God, said Tekla.
If condemned for such a crime, you will burn at
the stake, as a witch. Is this nonsense worth dying
for? Look at your mother, crying. Look at your
father, ashamed of his own daughter.
Tekla did not answer. She just stood there, saying
nothing at all, looking at the crowd.
Burn the witch! someone shouted, and a whole
lot of people took up the chant and cried, Burn the
witch! Tekla still said nothing.

Take her home, said the magistrate wearily to


her parents. She is just a stupid and misguided
child and I have known your family for many years.
Put some sense into her head. Beat her, if
necessary. However, if she continues with this, she
will burn. I am warning you. The Miraya
darkened, but something started whirling, and I
realized Baalshamroot was going to show me the
next turn of events. Indeed, I saw Tekla running in
the streets and approaching a dismal house. She
knocked on the door and a man, wearing a shabby
Roman outfit, came out. I assumed he was a
turnkey.
Let me in, and Ill give you my earrings,
whispered Tekla. They are made of gold. The
turnkey looked around the street, saw no one, and
let her in. She handed him the heavy gold earrings,
and he put them inside his robe, quickly. They
walked to a cell, and he let her in there, too. Inside
was a tall, thin man, sitting on the straw that was
spread on the filthy floor. Tekla threw herself at his
feet and cried. He began talking to her, telling her
to be strong in her faith. It was horrible to watch,

since I knew that he was going to lead the silly girl


to her death as a witch, and there was nothing I
could do about it. I wanted to kill him. I had to
remind myself that the event took place two
thousand years ago, that the same girl was standing
by my side, but I could hardly bear it anyway. Two
men entered, grabbed Tekla off the ground, and led
her away.
One of them, the good looking young man on the
right, is the man I was engaged to, said
Baalshamroot calmly. He followed me, and his
brother came with him. They all felt their family
was disgraced because I broke the engagement.
The magistrate told your parents to take you
home
Yes, you see, my parents did take me home and
locked me up in my room, and after I refused to
listen to them they beat me, but when they left me
finally I climbed out of the window and ran out to
find Paul, and the scoundrel kept inciting me to
continue with my idiocy. Well, here is the next
scene, watch.
I saw that the two men brought her in front of the

magistrate again. This time the whole thing took no


time at all, and the magistrate said, I give up.
Burn her.
I saw people stack the wood, build it high, and
prepare the stake. They tied her to the stake and lit
the fire. I saw Tekla looking around wildly. Who
were you looking for? I asked.
Jesus Christ, she said. Can you believe it? I
thought he would come to me. But look, someone
else came.
A great eruption from the earth was heard, from
some distance. My Watcher, said Baalshamroot,
smiling. Her spaceship made a noise, since she
was in a great hurry to get me out of the fire and
executed a bad landing. Light was pouring
suddenly out of the sky, a cloud formed, and huge
quantities of rain and hail came out of the sky and
quenched the fire.
And I still thought it was Jesus Christ, said
Baalshamroot, laughing at the memory. The crowd
ran away in terror, and the magistrate let me go.
They all panicked. I saw people undoing the ties
and telling her to leave town. The Miraya darkened

again.
I left my parents and my town. It so happened that
Paul managed to run away from jail, I dont
remember how, and he hid in a cave with two of
his people. I joined him and begged him to let me
come and be his disciple. I must admit that for a
while he tried to dissuade me, telling me that
women always get in trouble when they preach,
particularly pretty ones. But I said to him that I was
willing to take the chance, and anyway, I no longer
had a home. So finally he agreed, and we went to
Rome. It was a long journey. The legends later told
that I went to Antioch, where I became the first
Christian Saint, but this is not true. We passed
Antioch on the way, but the events that they are
telling about, at the arena, happened at the
Coliseum in Rome. We preached and carried on
with sermons and baptisms, converting many poor
people into Christianity. I believed with all my
heart that Jesus Christ was my savior and all the
while the real Jesus of Nazareth was living
comfortably with his wife, Mary Magdalene, and
their children, in Marseille. He went there after he

was saved so cleverly from the Romans, but that is


another story. Ah, well. I was young and innocent.
Thank goodness, my Watcher was still taking care
of me. Yes, I was arrested again, they caught me
preaching. Paul was out of town when it happened,
converting and baptizing in the rural areas next to
Rome. After a short hearing, I was taken to the
arena, to be thrown to the lions. Look. She
directed the Miraya again.
The Coliseum, clean and new, was packed. The
Emperor and Empress, beautifully dressed for the
festivities and hailed by the crowd, came in and sat
down under their velvet and silk canopy, ready for
the fun of seeing human beings torn to pieces by
beasts who were already tormented by hunger and
thirst. Two victims were thrown into the arena, one
man and Tekla. The crowds cheered with joyful
expectation of the blood sport. Heavy iron gates
were raised up, creaking, to release the great
beasts. Two male lions and a lioness entered and
looked around, dazed by the light. They were thin,
probably starved for days, but still majestic, their
tawny skin glowing in the afternoon sunshine. The

male lions wandered around the arena, somewhat


confused, shaking their impressive manes. The
lioness, on the other hand, marched straight to
Tekla, and stood before her, as if she were a
faithful dog. It was strange, she did not attempt to
get a meal, just waited patiently.
The male victim was quickly killed by a male lion,
who calmly began to eat his flesh. The crowd,
slightly disappointed by the speed, cheered a little
feebly. They would have preferred to see some
torture inflicted on the victim by the lion. The other
male lion came forward, crouched, and attempted
to leap over the lioness to grab Tekla. Very neatly,
the lioness leapt into the air and with one bite on
his neck, killed the male lion, who was much
bigger than her. The crowd screamed. The second
lion raised his huge head, noticed the commotion,
and deserting his meal, tried to attack Tekla over
the body of the lioness, exactly as the first one did.
The lioness jumped against him and bit him, too,
but this time she was already tired and the bite did
not kill him outright, so the two beasts engaged in a
fierce fight, goring each other, and eventually dying

together. The starving lioness, never attempting to


get her own meal, sacrificed her life to defend
Tekla.
Such a thing could not have happened, and yet it
did. It must have seemed entirely unnatural to the
crowd. The young woman, alone in the arena,
surrounded by the remains of the other victim and
three dead lions, stood tall and steady, gazing at the
crowd with untroubled, fearless eyes. She even
smiled at them.
Several women screamed, Free the girl! The gods
are protecting her! Tekla heard them and shouted
something, but could not be heard over the crowds
screams. Would you believe, I was saying that
there were no gods, that Jesus Christ himself was
protecting me, said Baalshamroot. No one heard,
though, which was a fortunate event. Look.
Many women joined in. Free her, free her! they
were screaming. The Emperor looked rather
helpless, not knowing if he should unleash his
guards on the crowd, or obey it. The empress got
up. She is to be free, she commanded, and
lowered her thumb in the traditional gesture. The

woman has subdued the wild beast. She must be a


virgin, protected by Vesta. I command her release.
The Emperor seemed happy that the decision was
made for him, and lowered his own thumb. A slave
went into the arena and lead Tekla out.
The Empress held her thumb down, Sinhar
Baalshamroot, I interrupted, surprised. Shouldnt
it be up? She gave you freedom.
No, this was a mistake, perpetuated in
Hollywood, where they did not read Latin very
well. It is exactly the other way around.
And why did the lioness defend you?
My Watcher, of course, controlled the lioness,
Baalshamroot said. I left town and went in search
of Paul, preparing to continue our mission. I met
him out of town, and we went on, but everything
changed between us. After the scene with the lions,
many people came to believe I was a miracle
worker, and my reputation preceded me. People
knew about me before I came to various towns,
and seemed to pay more attention to me than to
Paul. He did not like it. Paul did not mind having
me around when I was a humble follower, but

generally he disliked and mistrusted women, as is


clear from his writing. When I became famous, he
was afraid I would usurp his power and control
over the events. Therefore, he betrayed me. It was
easy enough for him to do so when I tried to visit
my parents in Maalula. I heard that my vengeful
betrothed, Thamyris, was killed in an accident. He
had been drinking heavily with his friends, and on
their way home, a wagon, pulled by an ox, ran over
him. My father was also dead, and I wanted to be
reconciled with my mother.
The Miraya showed the little town, not all that
different from the modern one. Tekla stood talking
to her mother. But Thamyris is dead, Mother, she
said. He will no longer claim me as his wife.
Why cant you forgive me? Why cant you join me
in my belief in Jesus Christ, our Savior?
Thamyris death does not make you less of a
criminal, said Teklas mother. He would not
have been out that night, drinking, if you had
married him. As for your father, he died of shame.
It is as if you killed both, and ruined my life as
well. What have I got to live for? Go away, you

brought me nothing but pain and shame.


Tekla lowered her head and went away. The
Miraya followed her to a water pit, surrounded by
many people. Paul stood by. One young man
suddenly said look, everyone! This is Tekla! She
is the one Thamyris died for! Catch her, kill her!
I saw Paul slink away behind some people, as a
group of men caught Tekla and held her. What
shall we do with her? One asked.
Throw her into the pond! Drown her! Let her die
for what she had done to Thamyris, and her father,
too! shouted another man. Drown her, kill her!
Baalshamroot sighed and stopped the Miraya for a
minute. My poor Watcher must have been getting
tired of protecting me. So many times she had to
extricate me from all the entanglements. But this
time, I saw Paul run away and leave me to my fate,
and for the first time, my faith in him wavered. I
was so shocked to see him betray me, not coming
to my aid, that I felt my entire world was tumbling
down around me. My believe in Jesus Christ was
closely associated with my belief in Pauls
goodness. If Paul betrayed me, was Jesus Christ

true to me? In an instant, I lost my faith, lost


everything. I wanted to die, death was the only
release from my agony. With superhuman strength I
extricated myself from the men who held me, and
threw myself into the pond. Look.
I saw Tekla throw herself into the water, but she
did not sink. Instead, she rose to the surface as if
weighless, her long black hair floating like a cloud
around her. She seemed to be shocked, looking
around her with dismay and horror, since she
obviously did not try to swim, and yet she was not
drowning. A great yellow light appeared in the sky,
shining right over her, and she was slowly raised
into the air, still in the same horizontal position she
was in the water, her wet hair tumbling down
vertically and dripping water. The crowd
screamed with terror. She is a witch! Run away!
She is not drowning! they all turned and ran away,
in panic, as she was levitating in the air toward the
light. She floated in the air for some time, then
seemed to turn as she was set on her feet on the
edge of the water.
Baalshamroot turned the Miraya off. As I was set

on my feet, a gentle voice said in my ear, Run to


the cave above you, Tekla.
I ran up to the cave, obeying the voice mindlessly. I
went inside and sat on one of the stones, dripping
water all around me. What was happening? I had
no idea. Outside, I could hear the people, those
who recovered themselves from the panic,
climbing the mountain after me. That was fine with
me, let them kill me, I thought. I want to die
anyway. What did I have to live for? But it was not
to be.
As the people gazed into the cave, hesitating
weather to come in and grab me or not, a shaft of
light appeared in the cave. The people retreated,
scared of the sight. Out of the shaft came my
Watcher, took my hand, and guided me a little
deeper into the cave, where her spaceship stood,
ready to leave. We entered it, and she took me
away. At the time I did not know what happened to
the people, but later I heard they had told everyone
that I went into a cave and then vanished into thin
air.
And after that, did you understand the situation?

Did you realize who the Watcher was?


Yes. Once I got over my ridiculous faith in Paul of
Tarsus, I could begin to understand the truth. From
then on, my life changed, and I worked toward
becoming the Anunnaki I am today, but that is
another story, for another time; some day I will tell
you how it was accomplished. The interesting thing
is, Paul had tried his best to erase my name, and
greatly succeeded, at least for a while. My name
only appears officially in a small book, called the
Acts of Paul. But the legends that begun to
surround me were impossible to kill. It is still
claimed that I was the first Christian Martyr, that I
have sacrificed my life for the Son of God. Thank
goodness this did not happen, and I can devote my
life to learning and truth.
An amazing story. Thank you for telling it to me,
Sinhar Baalshamroot.
It had to be told. And now, I will be taking you
home to Paris. Or would you prefer to visit Rabbi
Mordechai in Budapest?
Yes, I would love to see him, tell him all that had
happened.

He knows, Germain.
So that is why I could not contact anyone
telepathically? He blocked it for the test?
Yes.
And I passed the test?
Yes, Germain. You passed the test.
Will I see you again, Sinhar Baalshamroot?
Yes, now that we have established contact, I will
be visiting you off and on. And of course, should
you need help, please contact me. Always
remember I am your Watcher.
As if I could ever forgetThank you, Sinhar
Baalshamroot, I said.
Will you report to the Pres du Triangle soon?
As soon as I am back in Paris, after my visit with
Rabbi Mordechai.
And do you feel ready for your next mission?
I am ready, Sinhar Baalshamroot. Always. The
Pres du Triangle know it. She smiled at me,
pleased that the ordeal did not deter me from my
work. I smiled back, happy in the certainty that she
will not disappear from my life. I would never feel
alone again, knowing that she was there for me, my

own Watcher, my guide forever.


In a blink of an eye, I found myself in front of the
familiar house of Rabbi Mordechai in Budapest.
He was standing in one of the windows, waiting
for me. I waved at him and walked straight in.

INDEX
A
AFRIT
Creation of by Cheik Al Huseini.....100
Description of.....100101
Gold and.....106107
Names of.....9495
Preparations for summoning of.....9395
Sending away.....106107
Summoning.....98100
Taj and (See TAJ)
ALCHEMICAL TRANSMUTING MACHINE
Generally.....123; 135137
ALCHEMY
Alchemical transmuting machine.....123; 135137
Alchemists versus transmutists.....122
Markowitch, Mr., meeting with.....121123
Transmuting ashes into gold.....135137
Transmutist, meeting with.....121123
ANA'KH, THE ANUNNAKI LANGUAGE
Anunnaki creation of humanity and.....206210
History of.....206210
Rabbi Mordechai, teaching by.....205212
Unique nature of.....243244
Urjanee, scribes of.....210; 226227
ANCIENT BATTERIES

Generally.....103104
ANIMALS AND PLANTS, ULEMA CONNECTION TO
Master Li
Bird and rose miracle in Benares.....4344
Birds, communication with.....58
Fish, communicating with.....5657
Rabbi Mordechai
Birds, communication with.....147
Garden, magical, in Budapest.....146147
Plant experiments, Ulema style.....146147
ANUNNAKI
Ana'kh, the Anunnaki language (See ANA'KH, THE
ANUNNAKI LANGUAGE)
Baalbeck, Anunnaki's early connection to.....8788
Humans, creation of.....88
Landing stone in Baalbeck.....9091
Lecture in Beirut (See ANUNNAKI LECTURE IN
BEIRUT)
Technology (See TECHNOLOGY, ANUNNAKI AND
GENERAL ANCIENT)
ANUNNAKI LECTURE IN BEIRUT
Generally.....228237
Baalshamroot
Manifestation and appearance of.....229231
Shape-shifting of.....236237
Book of Rama Dosh
Generally (See BOOK OF RAMA DOSH)
Viewing of.....228231
Cleansing of the earth.....232235

Events of 2022.....232235
Gray's contamination of humanity.....232235
Humanity, degree of contamination.....232235
ANUNNAKI-ULEMA
Animals and plants, connection to (See ANIMALS AND
PLANTS, ULEMA CONNECTION TO)
Cheik Al Huseini (See CHEIK AL HUSEINI)
Dr. Farid (See DR. FARID)
Early history of.....79
Eastern versus Western Anunnaki-Ulema.....232235
Lessons and techniques (See LESSONS AND
TECHNIQUES)
Lumire, Madame
Generally (See LUMIRE, MADAME)
Associations with.....165166
Master Li
Generally (See MASTER LI)
Being an Ulema, Germain's realization of.....78
Money and wealth, relationship to.....103
Nature of.....77; 100
Pre du triangle (See PRE DU TRIANGLE)
Rabbi Mordechai (See RABBI MORDECHAI)
Taj (See TAJ)
Tuareg Ulema (See TUAREG ULEMA)
Ulema as adjective.....172173
ARAWADI
Lesson and technique.....6164
B

BAALBECK, TRIP TO
Generally.....86111
Afrit (See AFRIT)
Anunnaki's early connection to Baalbeck.....8788
Anunnaki's landing stone.....9091
Book of Rama Dosh (See BOOK OF RAMA DOSH)
Cheik Al Huseini (See CHEIK AL HUSEINI)
Early history of Baalbeck.....8788
Taj (See TAJ)
Tuareg Ulema
Generally (See TUAREG ULEMA)
Reunion with.....9293; 96
Underground city in Baalbeck (See BAALBECK,
UNDERGROUND CITY OF)
BAALBECK, UNDERGROUND CITY OF
Ancient batteries.....103104
Anunnaki's early connection to Baalbeck.....8788
Anunnaki's landing stone.....9091
Batteries.....103104
Descending to.....9798
Description of.....103104
Other dimension
Entering.....101102
Exiting.....108110
BAALSHAMROOT
Manifestation and appearance of.....229231
Shape-shifting of.....236237
BEIRUT, TRIP TO
Generally.....223247

Affiliation-Membership (See subhead: Promotion to Level 8)


Anunnaki lecture (See ANUNNAKI LECTURE IN
BEIRUT)
Description of.....224
Dr. Farid (See DR. FARID)
Godfather, meeting with.....223224
Lodge
Description of.....224225
Spiritual nature of.....226
Promotion to Level 8
Ceremony.....226227
Dr. Farid (See DR. FARID)
Invitation for.....204205
BENARES, TRIP TO
Benares, description of.....4041; 4243
Bird and rose miracle.....4344
Master Li's home and family.....4142
Poverty in Benares.....4041
Rope Trick, Indian.....4647
Snake, encounter with.....41
Tree miracle.....4446
BERTRAND
Generally.....166170; 184186
BIRD AND ROSE MIRACLE
Generally.....4344
BIRDS, COMMUNICATION WITH
Generally.....58; 147
BOOK OF RAMA DOSH
Ana'kh, unique nature of.....243244

Arrangements to read in Beirut.....237


Cheik Al Huseini
Secret library.....238
Telekinetic activity.....240241
Copying and printing
Baalbeck, printing in.....107108; 110111
Single copy, as.....240241
Extended time spent reading.....245
Minaizar as reading device.....241243
Nokta.....244
Reading and studying of.....243244
Reading device (Minaizar).....241243
Viewing during lecture in Beirut.....228231
BREAD AND CHEESE GIFT
Generally.....213215
BUDAPEST, TRIP TO
Chain Bridge.....154155
Description of.....141; 145146
Garden, magical, of Rabbi Mordechai.....146147
Gypsy caf.....147150
Gypsy fortune teller, encounter with.....148150
Home of Rabbi Mordechai.....141142
Library of Rabbi Mordechai.....141142
Study in
First period.....140157
Second period.....193215
C
CHEIK AL HUSEINI

Afrit, and (See AFRIT)


Boiling water and paper technique.....9395
Book of Rama Dosh, and (See BOOK OF RAMA DOSH,
subhead: Cheik Al Huseini)
Meeting with.....92
CHILDHOOD
Benares, trip to (See BENARES, TRIP TO)
Damascus (See DAMASCUS)
Fears, dealing with (See FEARS, DEALING WITH)
High school graduation.....86
Hong Kong, trip to (See HONG KONG, TRIP TO)
Master Li
Generally (See MASTER LI)
Benares, trip to (See BENARES, TRIP TO)
Damascus, reunion with.....7378
Hong Kong, trip to (See Hong Kong, TRIP TO)
Meeting in Paris.....3439
Middle East, moving to (See MIDDLE EAST, MOVING TO)
Paris
Master Li, meeting with.....3439
War, life after.....2939
Self defense (See SELF DEFENSE)
War, life after.....2939
CONDUIT
Description and explanation.....134; 197198
Opening of.....155156
Questions regarding.....154
D

DAMASCUS
Arab versus French lifestyle issues.....6569; 7273
Business success.....7273
Home, description of.....6569
Master Li, return of.....7378
Suk, description of.....7475
Tuareg Ulema (See TUAREG ULEMA)
DIMENSIONS, OTHER THAN EARTH
Afterlife
Beirut, discussion with Lumire, Madame.....246247
Paris, discussion with Lumire, Madame.....265270
Underground city in Baalbeck (See BAALBECK,
UNDERGROUND CITY OF)
DR. FARID
Invitation to the Beirut Lodge by.....204205
Pre du triangle initiation and.....173174
Reuniting with in Beirut.....225226
Studying The Book of Rama Dosh (See BOOK OF RAMA
DOSH)
E
ENLIGHTENMENT, GERMAIN'S EXPERIENCE OF
Anunnaki-Ulema, final self acceptance as.....275276
Conduit, prior to opening.....156157
Master Li being an Ulema, realization of.....78
Trust, ability to.....156157
EXTRASENSORY EVENTS
Afrit (See AFRIT)
Bird and rose miracle.....4344

Birds, communicating with.....58


Bread and cheese gift.....213215
Curing Sister Marie Ange Gabrielle.....3839
Fish, communicating with.....5657
Flying with Master Li.....52
Ghooliim, creation of.....125129
Half body and spiritual nature.....7778
Healing a wounded boy.....212213
Houses, built overnight.....124132
Magical objects (See MAGICAL OBJECTS)
Shore, missing.....5152
Sister Marie Ange Gabrielle, curing of.....3839
Snake, encounter with.....41
Tay Al Ard (See TAY AL ARD)
Telekinetic activity (See TELEKINETIC ACTIVITY)
Teleportation (See TELEPORTATION)
Transmuting ashes into gold.....135137
Tree miracle.....4446
Tuareg Ulema (See TUAREG ULEMA)
Walls, walking through.....98; 105
F
FEARS, DEALING WITH
Rope trick, Indian.....4649
Tropical storm.....5859
War terrors.....3234
FINDING YOUR LUCKY DAY AND HOUR OF THE
WEEK, USING THE ANUNNAKI-ULEMA
CALENDAR

Lesson and technique.....187192


FISH, COMMUNICATION WITH
Generally.....5657
FLYING WITH MASTER LI
Generally.....52
G
GERMAIN LUMIRE'S FAMILY
Charles Lumire (Germain's father).....31; 39
Lumire, Madame (Germain's mother) (See LUMIRE,
MADAME)
Sylvie (Germain's sister) (See LUMIRE, SYLVIE)
GHOOLIIM, CREATION OF
Generally.....125129
GIFTS AND FAVORS, MEANING OF
Bread and cheese gift with Rabbi Mordechai.....213215
Child's toy with Master Li.....5255
GOLDEN BANANA
Generally.....135137
GYPSY CAF
Generally.....147150
GYPSY FORTUNE TELLER, ENCOUNTER WITH
Generally.....148150
H
HEALING A WOUNDED BOY
Generally.....212213
HONG KONG, TRIP TO
Generally.....4960
Birds, communicating with.....58

Description of.....5051
Fish, communicating with.....5657
Flying with Master Li.....52
Gifts and favors, meaning of.....5255
Island, trip to.....5160
Shore, missing.....5152
HOUSES, BUILT OVERNIGHT
Generally.....124132
HUMANS, CREATION OF
Anunnaki, by.....88

I
INITIATION INTO THE PRE DU TRIANGLE
Description of.....177182
Dr. Farid.....173174
Ethiopia, trip to.....171172
Guides
Initiation helper.....176177; 182183
Physician.....176
Senegalese captain/Ulema and his wife.....171173
Preparation for.....174176
Return to the hotel, problem with.....183184
Ulema as adjective.....172173
INVISIBILITY BLANKET
Generally.....124; 129131
L
LANDING STONE, ANUNNAKI'S

Generally.....9091
LESSONS AND TECHNIQUES
Anunnaki-Ulema techniques, list of.....195196
Arawadi.....6164
Finding Your Lucky Day and Hour of the Week, Using the
Anunnaki-Ulema Calendar.....187192
Minzar, Your Mirror to Alternate Realities.....249263
Moving Objects by Using Mental Powers.....217221
Tay Al Ard.....7982
Time manipulation.....198204
Triangle of Life.....159164
LUMIRE, CHARLES (GERMAIN'S FATHER)
Generally.....31; 39
LUMIRE, MADAME
Afterlife
Beirut, discussion in.....246247
Paris, discussion in.....265270
Anunnaki-Ulema, associations with.....165166
Apparition in Beirut.....246247
Business
Damascus.....86
France.....113115
Death of.....246247
Funeral, appearance at.....265270
Nuns, aid to.....3839; 70; 114115
Resistance movement, relationship with.....2931
Social life
Damascus.....7273; 86
Paris.....166

Vichy government, relationship with.....6970; 7172


LUMIRE, SYLVIE
Childhood in Paris.....32; 34
Family business, assuming responsibility for.....270273
Moving to the Middle East.....70
Paris, return to.....113114
Wedding.....273
M
MAGICAL GARDEN
Generally.....146147
MAGICAL OBJECTS
Alchemical transmuting machine.....123; 135137
Ancient batteries.....103104
Anunnaki's landing stone.....9091
Bird and rose, paper to life.....4344
Book of Rama Dosh (See BOOK OF RAMA DOSH)
Golden banana.....135137
Invisibility blanket.....124; 129131
Mezuzah, shape shifting.....117121
Minaizar as reading device.....241243
Minzar.....249263
Reading device (Minaizar).....241243
Ring with Torah.....117
Triangles, refrigerating.....143144
MASTER LI
Damascus, in.....7378
Description of.....3637
Diplomatic duties.....8384

Flying in Hong Kong.....52


Home and family of.....4142
Meeting with.....3439
Self defense, teaching of.....5758; 5859
MEZUZAH, SHAPE SHIFTING
Generally.....117121
MIDDLE EAST, MOVING TO
Damascus, settling in (See DAMASCUS)
Government harassment in Paris.....69
Morocco, trouble in.....7071
Vichy government agents, assistance by.....6970; 7172
MINAIZAR
Generally.....241243
MINZAR, YOUR MIRROR TO ALTERNATE REALITIES
Lesson and technique.....249263
MOVING OBJECTS BY USING MENTAL POWERS
Lesson and technique.....217221
P
PARIS, LIFE IN
Childhood (See CHILDHOOD)
Markowitch, Mr., meeting with.....121123
Master Li, meeting with.....3439
Rabbi Mordechai
Generally (See RABBI MORDECHAI)
Meeting with.....115116
Return from Middle East.....113114
Transmutist, meeting with.....121123
University and general (non-Ulema)

studies

(See

UNIVERSITY AND GENERAL STUDIES)


War, life after.....2939
PRE DU TRIANGLE
Assignment for Germain.....273276
Bertrand and.....166170; 184186
Description of
Bertrand, by.....169170; 184186
Rabbi Mordechai, by.....134135
Future expertise for Germain
Generally.....169170
Linguistics
and
ambassadorial duties
as
future
expertise.....210212; 273276
Initial contact with.....166170
Initiation into (See INITIATION INTO THE PRE DU
TRIANGLE)
Members, choosing of.....169170
PLANT EXPERIMENTS, ULEMA STYLE
Generally.....146147
R
RABBI MORDECHAI
Alchemists versus transmutists.....122
Ana'kh, teaching of (See ANA'KH, THE ANUNNAKI
LANGUAGE)
Anunnaki-Ulema techniques, list of.....195196
Balalaika playing.....148
Birds, communication with.....147
Budapest, trip to (See BUDAPEST, TRIP TO)
Conduit

Generally (See CONDUIT)


Opening of.....156157
Description of.....115116
Energy lines around the world.....152
Friends of Rabbi Mordechai
Bertrand.....166170; 184186
Budapest, in.....142; 146
Dr. Farid (See FARID, DR.)
Markowitch, Mr......121123
Master Li (See MASTER LI)
Pre du Triangle.....168
Garden, magical.....146147
Ghooliim, creation of.....125129
Gypsy caf.....147150
Gypsy fortune teller, encounter with.....148150
Home in Budapest.....141142
Houses, built overnight.....124132
Kefitzat Haderach.....155156
Library in Budapest.....141142
Magical objects
Alchemical transmuting machine.....123; 135137
Golden banana.....135137
Invisibility blanket.....124; 129131
Mezuzah, shape shifting.....117121
Ring with Torah.....117
Triangles, refrigerating.....143144
Markowitch, Mr., meeting with.....121123
Meeting with in Paris.....115116
Pre du Triangle, description of (See PRE DU TRIANGLE)

Plant experiments, Ulema style.....146147


Star of David, universal significance of.....153154
Study in Budapest
First period.....140157
Second period.....193215
Supernatural, definition of.....195
Tay Al Ard (See TAY AL ARD)
Time manipulation.....198204
Transmuting ashes into gold.....135137
Transmutist, meeting with.....121123
Triangle of Life.....150154; 159164
Triangles, refrigeration by.....143144
Ulema teacher, assuming responsibility as.....132134
RING WITH TORAH
Generally.....117
S
SELF DEFENSE
Energy based system.....8486
Japanese Zen masters, learning from.....8486
Master Li, learning from.....5758; 5859
SHORE, MISSING
Generally.....5152
SISTER MARIE ANGE GABRIELLE, CURING OF
Generally.....3839
SNAKE, ENCOUNTER WITH
Generally.....41
T
TAJ

Afrit
Beating by.....106107
Sending away.....106107
Summoning of.....98100
Meeting with.....8889
Supernatural tricks performed by.....8990
Treasure, hunting for.....102104; 106107
TAY AL ARD
Budapest, Rabbi Mordechai.....155156
Cultures other than Ulema using.....8081
Dangers of.....82
Kefitzat Haderach.....8081; 155156
Learning the technique in Budapest.....155156
Lesson and technique.....7982
Modern science and.....8081
Tuareg Ulema.....7578
TECHNOLOGY,
ANUNNAKI
AND
ANCIENT
Anunnaki's landing stone.....9091
Batteries.....103104
Cleansing, planetary.....232235
Minaizar as reading device.....241243
Minzar.....249263
Printing with the Miraya.....107108; 110111
Reading device (Minaizar).....241243
Walls, walking through.....105
TELEKINETIC ACTIVITY
Cheik Al Huseini.....240241
Tuareg Ulema.....7578

GENERAL

TELEPORTATION
Generally.....8081
Rabbi Mordechai.....155156
Tuareg Ulema.....7578
TIME MANIPULATION
Lesson and technique.....198204
TRANSMUTING ASHES INTO GOLD
Generally.....135137
TREE MIRACLE
Generally.....4446
TRIANGLE OF LIFE
Lesson and technique.....159164
Technique.....159164
TRIANGLES, REFRIGERATING
Generally.....143144
TUAREG ULEMA
Generally.....7578
Half body and spiritual nature.....7778
Meeting with.....7578
Tay Al Ard.....7578
Telekinetic activity.....7578
Teleportation.....7578
Ulema's help.....77

U
UNIVERSITY AND GENERAL STUDIES
Generally.....113115
Books, writing and publishing.....166

Doctorate degree.....166; 193


Graduation.....140
Philosophy and literature.....114
Speed of study enhancement.....139140
URJANEE, SCRIBES OF ANA'KH
Generally.....210; 226227
V
VICHY GOVERNMENT
Generally.....6970; 7172
W
WALLS, WALKING THROUGH
Generally.....98; 105